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luxaofhesperides · 6 months

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Accidental Bride Sacrifice ; requested by @starlightcat04!

Danny has long since gotten used to the feel of summonings. They don’t happen often, but sometimes the right components are put together to force him into answering, and he’d have to go as the new Ghost King.

Which no one told him was a thing! He hadn’t protested too much about the whole Ghost King deal when they finally told him about it after he graduated high school. It gave him a good excuse to ditch life in the living realm and not worry about college or a career, and let him really embrace his ghost side.

The summonings are a problem, though. They always feel staticky and bad, like a dumpster that just got struck by lightning. The taste of iron on his tongue, a clear sign of blood being spilled, lets him know that it would be one of end the world for us summonings, because some people can’t put in the effort to do it themselves, apparently.

But this time, the summoning feels different.

Danny pauses, eyes going unfocused in the middle of his conversation with Jazz. He had been looking forward to spending the week with her, now that she’s on winter break, but his luck is as bad as always.

“I’m being summoned,” he tells her, cutting off her rant about a transphobic professor she had.

“Oh, no. Do you need me to do anything? Should I go with you to beat up whoever it is that’s summoning you?”

Danny tilts his head to the side, considering. The taste of blood is noticeably absent. In fact, this summoning pull doesn’t make him feel sick at all. It makes him feel warm, as if he’s just been wrapped in a hug.

“No,” he says. “I think I’m good. This one feels different.”

“A good different?” Jazz asks, worry clear in her voice.

“Yeah. A good different. I’ll come back soon, okay?”

“Alright. Be careful, Danny.” Jazz pulls him into a quick hug, then steps back to watch as Danny stops fighting the pull of the summoning and disappears into a swirling white rings that flashes into existence behind him, blinding her for a moment, and is gone when she manages to blink the spots out of her vision.

For a minute, Danny drifts in a void of stillness, traveling through the realms as the summoning draws him closer to the correct realm. And then he’s rising out of the ground in a dark building made of concrete, candles of green flame scattered all over the place.

“Great One!” someone in a hooded cloak cries, raising his arms in jubilation. “Our calls have been answered!”

“I’ll fucking kill you!” a mechanical voice yells from farther back. When Danny looks past the cultists’ heads, he spots a man in a red hood and leather jacket chained to a pole, along with a bunch of other people in strange costumes tied up, desperately trying to free themselves.

“Silence!” The leader of the cult, or who Danny assumes is the leader, snaps at the hooded man and gestures to the people off to his left. They force another costumed person forward, this one in yellow armor. He can see the blood running down their face from beneath their helmet and from their nose, dark lines of blood cutting through their brown skin.

The cultists throw the armored person forward, forcing them to kneel. Then they bow to Danny and step back.

“Great One,” the leader says, voice unpleasantly reverent and grating, “Welcome to the mortal realms. We offer you this sacrifice to feed your strength. He will make a fine general for your undead army in your crusade to rid this world of its filth.”

The people in the back begin shouting all together, panicked voices overlapping, and Danny is left staring down at the cultists in shock.

The summoning had felt so nice. What the hell was this? He did not sign up for another ‘end of days’ insane cult. He just wanted to be hugged.

His silence makes the cultists nervous. They begin to shift uneasily, whispering to each other, and the leader clears his throat, then pulls a large crystal dagger out of his cloak. “We shall prove our devotion to you through an offering of a hero’s blood!”

And then he moves towards the sacrifice and Danny snaps out of his shock to yell, “Wait!”

The entire room freezes. Even the costumed people in the back go still.

Danny winces, then tries to smother his power, make himself more palatable to the humans of this dimension. “Wait,” he says again, and he sounds closer to human now. If he could, he would drop his ghost form entirely, but he knows better than to endanger himself like that. “What, exactly, did you summon me here for?”

The cult leader stares at him for a moment. “To… To rid the world of filth and allow your loyal followers to spread word of your power. You will be worshiped again, Great One, and serve as a reminder to man that Death shall always prevail.”

“Okay, I get that, but I was talking more along the lines of the summoning. What ritual did you use? What specifically were the summoning requirements?”

Normally, he’d be able to figure it out himself, but these cultists didn’t use a summoning circle. So they did something else, something less visible and therefore harder to figure out, in order to bring him here.

A woman standing off to the side speaks up, stepping forward hesitantly. “I had pieced together a few summoning spells from this book to bring you here. You had to accept our chosen sacrifice to your side in order for the summoning to work.”

“Hold up that book for me, please?”

She does, and Danny flies down to grab it from her hands. “Point out which lines you used,” he says, already reading a few of the words written down. It’s definitely ghostspeak written down, which should be near impossible for living humans to translate without being skilled in magic.

“Ah, these ones.” She points to each line, reading them out for him, and Danny starts understand what, exactly, went wrong.

“Is there a problem, Great One?”

Danny returns the book then floats over to the sacrifice and picks him up. The costumed people make alarmed noises, but quietly quiet down again when all Danny does is move him away from the cultists.

“Okay,” he says, “So. The lines you used to summon me were not translated properly. What you interpreted as ‘accepted to stay by the king’s side in loyalty and strength’ is not meant to be, like, him being part of my undead army or whatever. It’s a royal marriage vow.”

“They married us?” the sacrifice shouts, disbelieving. The cult leader buries his face in his hands and sighs.

“My deepest apologies, Great One. We meant no offense. We simply wanted to aid in your destruction of this depraved world.”

Danny scrunches his nose and shakes his head. “Yeah, that’s not gonna fly with me. I do not do the biding of random people, especially those who are ready to murder innocent people for no reason. Frighty, if you would.” He snaps his fingers, calling up Fright Knight who always enjoys getting to torment the people who summon Danny for murderous reasons.

Fright Knight appears in a swirl of darkness and screams. Shadows swallow the room, and when they recede, no cultists remain.

“Thanks, Frighty. Have fun with them. I need to figure out all… this.”

Fright Knight bows to him, then disappears. Danny lets out a breath, then floats down lower to be eye level with the sacrifice. “Hey,” he says gently, with a smile, “I’m so sorry they did this to you. I’m Danny. What’s your name?”

“Du— Uh, Signal,” the sacrifice says, sounding rather dazed.

“Signal,” Danny repeats. “Like… a traffic signal?”

“No. I mean, maybe? But it is Signal. That’s my hero name, not my real name.”

“Oh, you’re a hero!” His getup makes more sense now. Danny checks him over for any signs of injuries. So far, only his head and nose seem to be injured, but his wrists are tightly bound behind his back. Carefully, Danny calls upon his ice and shapes it into a sharp knife, then cuts through the zipties.

He helps Signal up to his feet, floating by his shoulder. “All good?”

“Yeah, man, all good. Let me just get the others free.”

“Oh, I can do it!” Danny flies over to the other costumed people, who must also be heroes. All it takes is one link in the chain being frozen and broken for the entire thing to go lax, allowing them to free themselves. Hooded guy spares Danny a single glance, then hurries over to Signal to check on him. The other three, a man with a blue bird across his chest, a blond girl with a yellow bat outline on her chest, and a guy with bandoliers and a golden bird emblem, all watch him warily as he floats back towards the center of the room.

“So,” the blue bird man says, “If they summoned you with a marriage vow, and you accepted, does that mean you’re planning to steal Signal away from us?” He’s smiling, but it’s not a nice smile.

“No! I had no idea they did this! I am so sorry you all got caught up in this. You most of all, Signal.”

Signal shrugs, nudging hood guy away from him. “Nah, man, it’s all good. This is definitely the better outcome.”

“I don’t know, being married off isn’t really a good thing.”

“Hey, at least they married me off to a decent guy.”

“You don’t know that,” Danny says, “What if I’m secretly evil?”

“If you were secretly evil, you’d be destroying the world right now. I think you’re fine.”

The blond girl waves at him, demanding his attention. “Quick question! They were calling you ‘Great One’. Are you a god or something?”

“Not really? I’m the Ghost King. So I’m a ghost who rules over other ghosts and also a majority of the Infinite Realms.”

She nods as if this is all totally normal for her, then shoots Signal a grin. “Congrats on bagging a king! Not the worst way to spend a night, right?”

“Can you break the marriage?” blue bird man asks, the lines of his shoulders tense.

Danny awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, not looking any of them in the eye. “I honestly don’t know. I can look for a way! But I genuinely have no clue. This was unexpected.”

“But you accepted.”

“I didn’t know what I expected! It just felt like a hug, and I wanted a hug! I thought I was being summoned for something nice for once!” Danny curls up, bringing his knees up to his chest, and hides his pout behind his hands. He knows he’s being childish, but he can’t help but be upset that he couldn’t have this one good experience from being Ghost King.

It’s always responsibilities and death cult summonings and fighting ghosts who don’t think he should be king. Sure there have been some good things, but they’re comparatively few when looking at all the other stress and pain that comes with the crown. Sue him for wanting to have a nice night for once. Hell, at this point, he’d take being summoned to help with some kid’s homework, because at least then he could have a quiet night helping someone.

“Hey, man, can you come down here?” Signal asks.

He wants to stay out of reach, hiding himself away for a bit longer, but Signal is his new, surprise, accidental husband, so Danny lowers himself to the ground and peeks through his fingers to look at him.

He tenses when Signal hugs him, soft and warm and comforting. It takes a moment for him to realize what’s going on, and then he’s melting into Signal’s embrace, dropping his hands to wrap them around Signal’s back.

Distantly, he can hear the other heroes talking quietly amongst themselves. He blocks out the sound as much as he can, determined to enjoy this hug while it lasts.

Which is… fairly long. Signal makes no moves to end the hug, so Danny closes his eyes to really savor the moment.

“So,” Signal murmurs into his ear, “As newlyweds, how about we get to know each other a bit better before we start working on fixing all this?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Let’s ditch these guys and take some time to ourselves.”

“I promise I’ll get this fixed,” he says, just to make sure Signal knows. “Genuinely, I am so sorry to have married you through an old Realms vow when you had no say in it.”

“Hey, if it lands me a very nice, very attractive king, then I don’t mind at all. I could have done without the murderous cultists, though.”

Danny huffs out a small laugh. “Oh, for sure. Thanks for being so cool about this. Want me to fly us out of here?”

“Yes please,” Signal says. Danny smiles and tightens his grip on Signal, then lifts them both up. “I’ll see y’all later! Have fun with the rest of your patrols!” he calls out to the other heroes, who start shouting at him.

Danny flies them right out the roof before the other heroes figure out a way to kick his ass. The city they’re in is smoggy and dark, tall buildings rising up into the cloudy sky, and police sirens ring through the air. There’s no where that looks like a particularly nice spot to land for a conversation, so he asks Signal where he’d like to go and follows his directions from there.

They end up phasing through a building, then into the floor, which leaves them in what Signal calls The Hatch.

Danny takes a quick moment to freak out over being in a hero’s secret hide out, the composes himself and finally pulls away from Signal.

“So,” he starts, looking around The Hatch and taking in the giant computer, the workstation, the motorcycle farther down the way, “What did you—Woah!” Danny spins around, slamming a hand over his eyes the instant he realizes that Signal is taking off his helmet, leaving his face bare.

It’s not like he’d know who Signal is anyways, being from a different dimension, but it’s the principle of the matter.

Signal laughs when he sees Danny’s attempt to keep from looking at him. A warm hand wraps around his wrist and gently pulls it away. “It’s okay, Danny, you can look,” he says. “It would be pretty weird if my own husband didn’t know my face.”

Slowly, giving Signal to change his mind, Danny opens his eyes. He moves his gaze up, going from Signal’s armor to his face, his very cute face and his warm brown eyes, and Danny stares for a moment.

“Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi,” Signal says, fondness coloring his voice. “My name’s Duke. Are all Ghost Kings as cute as you?”

“Duke,” Danny repeats. “Hi. Um, no. The last one really sucked, actually, which is why I fought him. He was so bad the Infinite Realms didn’t want him anymore, so though I technically didn’t beat him in single combat, it was enough for the Infinite Realms to kick him out and get me on the throne.”

“Man, I can not wait to hear more of your stories. Think we got time for that while we search for a way to undo that marriage vow?”

Taking his chance, Danny says, “Sure! It’s a date.”

He’s awarded by Duke’s bright smile and idly wonders how long he can keep them married. Hopefully long enough for them to get into a real relationship where he can propose properly. And then he can get Jazz’s blessing too—

“Oh shit,” Danny realizes.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I need to tell my sister or she’s going to actually kill me.”

Duke winces. “And I should probably tell the others before Spoiler makes a mess of things… B is not going to be happy with me.”

They share a despairing look, already dreading the amount of scoldings they’re both going to get. He’s not looking forward to it.

“...Put it off until tomorrow?”

Duke nods. “Yeah. That’s a tomorrow problem. For now, how about a late dinner?”

“Sounds perfect.”

. . .

[send me a ghostlights prompt!]

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dpxdc fanfic #dp x dc fic #prompt fill #my writing #dukes pov is just: u're abt to be sacrificed. u're mildly concussed. a cute guy glowing like the north star saved u and is now ur husband #he's had a night but all in all it ended pretty nicely!#they're gonna work together and just hang out while trying to undo the marriage summoning ritual and find they're super compatible #and then in a few years they'll be marrying each other for real :)#thanks for the prompt!!

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gay-dorito-dust · 3 months

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Okay, since you’re rereading the books and your up for this request, can I request headcanons with the same hades reader you wrote earlier where she meets Nico di angolo when he arrives to camp and from the moment they met, they hit it of instantly and Nico clings to the reader his entire time there, and even hangs out with Luke cause Luke is the readers bf?

This was long as shit as I got carried away…oops. Not so much on Luke and Nico spending time together but more so reader and Luke talking about Nico.

The moment Nico was brought to camp, a wide eyed boy who was so full of awe and wonder and excitement, you just knew how special he was and you couldn’t help but feel a familial sense when it came to the boy.

Almost as if you knew him your entire life when in reality this was your first ever meeting the boy, but something deep down told you that you would do anything to keep this boy safe and happy for as long as possible before it would be taken away from him; after all life as a Demi-god wasn’t all glory and valour and you all had to learn that rather ruthless lesson one way or another…oftentimes prematurely.

Then again, you chalked this feeling down to you being protective towards the younger Demi-gods that entered camp but this feeling was a lot stronger then that, a hell of a lot in the sense that a older sibling would fret over their younger siblings…but Nico wasn’t your sibling…well not that you were aware of seeing as he was still unclaimed but you guessed being a child of the big three had made you envious of what children of other gods had; family. You were alone and have been alone for quite a while…

Luke, your beloved boyfriend, was able to fill that void for a while, but sooner or later the realisation of just how lonesome you have been would come to consume your every thought.

Mythomagic. You hadn’t heard of that game for quite some time but you had a deck of Mythomagic cards locked within a box, underneath one of the floorboards inside your windowless cabin. Why? They had become so severely damaged and worn with time that you were scared that if you were to pick one up, it would crumple to dust within your palm. Plus it was a sentimental gift from your mother before she…never mind.

The memory was still too painful for you to recollect.

So when you saw Nico fiddling with a Dionysus card -the weakest card in the card game- between his fingers out of nervous habit, you almost didn’t recognise yourself speaking until Nico’s dark eyes looked directly at you with excitement.

‘A Dionysus card, haven’t met anyone who played Mythomagic that genuinely liked that card, you like Mythomagic kid?’ You had asked.

‘Do you?!’ Nico exclaimed as his smile matched his dark obsidian eyes in how brightly they shined.

‘Does Hades have 4000 attack power, 5000 if the opponent attacks first?’ You quickly corrected your self as Nico moved to sit next to you under the tree. ‘Who’s your favourite?’ You added, wanting the lad to feel at ease with you despite what everyone else might’ve told him about you in terms of unapproachableness.

‘Dionysus obviously!’ Nico replied, showing you his card as if to emphasise his point. ‘People think he’s not all that good but I think his powers are pretty cool and to find out that he’s real?! Even cooler!’ He adds on as he looks down at the card as if he was debating whether or not he was going to ask Mr D to sign it. However if Nico was the type of player that you assumed him to be, he wouldn’t dare tempt the idea. ‘Who’s yours?’

‘Hades.’ You said point blankly before continuing, ‘and it’s not because he’s my father.’

‘Hades is your father?!’ - Nico near enough shouted to ear you both the eyes of a couple of campers but you shot them a deadpan glare and they were quick to go back to whatever it was that they were doing beforehand. You softened your face as you looked back at Nico and answered his question. ‘Yeah, he is. He’s not as bad as people make him out to be, he doesn’t get in other people’s business like some gods and goddesses, considering he’s got his own dealings that take presidency but he’s more accommodating then most seeing as I’ve visited him on multiple occasions.’ You finished, shrugging your shoulders, you didn’t want to add on the fact that he had even gifted you Dvir, a hellhound, just yet. In due time you would but, some people would consider that too much.

‘Wow, you’re so cool.’ Right then and there you decided that you would have Nico’s back no matter what, for he was the only one besides Luke that didn’t fear you for your father and by god was it the most reliving thing ever!

You became someone Nico felt comfortable being his true self with, and would even try to sneak into the Hades cabin whenever he needed you to give him comfort and reassure him that you wouldn’t leave him for the Hunters Of Artemis like Bianca did; despite it being against the rules and all but it’s not like you didn’t do the exact same thing with Luke whenever you needed his presence to sooth and put your mind at ease.

He even tried to sit next to you during dinner time at the pavilion, another camp rule he had broken in order to be by your side, but no one dared to speak up upon it and instead bite their tongues, seeing as you and Luke were equally challenging anyone to speak about this to Mr D or Chiron but, nobody dared to do so. Meanwhile Nico was completely obvious to it all and was showing you all of his Mythomagic figures, Mythomagic expansion packs and bestowing every last drop of his knowledge of the card game onto you, all the while you were storing it within your own head as though it was something you were going to have to use later on.

No matter where you went, Nico wasn’t far behind following you like a lost puppy. Needless to say that whenever anyone saw Nico on his own, they knew better then to try anything for you were often lurking within the shadows nearby, watching over the boy with such a fierce protectiveness whilst giving him his freedom to better aquatint himself with camp. When it came to Nico, it seemed as though you became a complete different person, you didn’t know why but all you knew was that you weren’t going to let anything harm Nico while you were able to do something about it.

‘Doesn’t it bother you? Having him cling onto you all the time?’ One brave camper asked once and in all honesty? You didn’t care that he clung to you do suffocatingly. If anything you were glad that he choice you to be the one he relies on for anything and everything, it made you feel an whole assortment of things, the main one being happy knowing that someone openly sought you out because they viewed you as someone who’s opinions are worth listening and taking head to.

Nico felt safer with you than he ever did elsewhere, which was saying something considering he was within a camp built to protect people like him but he felt his most safest with you; Someone whom he quickly began to form an attachment towards and would oftentimes find himself clinging to your side like a second shadow. So much so that Luke would playfully tease you about it whenever he saw you both.

When in actuality Luke loved the fact that Nico was so attached to you. He wasn’t stupid, he knew that even with him by your side you still felt like you were alone, and could only hope that Nico would be the one to fill in that void within your heart completely. He was also happy for Nico for having you to fall back on because there was no one in camp that he would have to watch his back then yourself.

‘He’s asleep.’ You mused, looking at Nico, who fell asleep against Luke’s shoulder and was snoring softly.

‘He’s a good kid.’ Luke replied, ruffling Nico’s dark hair as a smile appeared on the younger boys face as he readjusted himself before falling still. Still like the dead Luke once playfully commented.

‘He really is.’ You said aloud, grasping Nico’s hand upon watching it reach out for you, squeezing it in hopes of showing him that you were with him. Luke pressed a kiss to your forehead as he saw the variety of emotions that flashed through your eyes as you kept watch over the sleeping boy. ‘You’re a good influence on him babe, don’t doubt yourself, the boy practically idolises you.’ He tried reassuring you but still the thoughts wouldn’t let up.

‘What if there’ll be a time where I can’t reach him, where I can’t save him from himself and he’ll resent me for it.’ You asked, needing Luke’s guidance more than ever in your time of uncertainty. Luke pondered this for a bit before finally responding. ‘There won’t be a time where Nico would ever resent you and even if that did ever happen, I just know that he would hate himself even more for pushing the one person who had his back and cared for him like their own flesh and blood.’ He then squeezed your thigh reassuringly. ‘That and you’d dive into the depths of the labyrinth to bring him back no matter what and he knows that better than anybody that you’d endanger yourself just to save him, even from himself.’

He was right. You knew he was right. You would wholeheartedly throw yourself into harms way if it meant Nico came out unscathed and that terrified you and Luke could see this. ‘So don’t doubt yourself because if you doubt yourself then Nico will doubt himself by extension. For if the person he admires doubts themself then he would feel like he should too.’ Luke then rests his forehead against yours, his eyes staring deeply into yours. ‘I know you can guide him down the right path, be the kind of person you needed when you were in his situation, be the person you know you’d feel safe with, be his protector because I know you can. He needs you.’ He finished.

You looked down at the peacefully sleeping Nico before looking back up at Luke with a look of determination. ‘I promise to protect him and help him in whatever he may need.’

Like smirks. ‘That’s my baby.’

#pjo x reader #pjo imagines #pjo imagine #pjo fanfic #pjo #pjo tv show #pjo series #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan imagines #luke castellan fanfic

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astroboots · 9 months

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EVERY YOU EVERY ME #14

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You try to move on after the Universe has been saved.

Word count: 4,700

Warning: Angst

Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss’ Masterlist

[Previous] [Next]

You're standing in the middle of your old apartment.

The same apartment that had a helicopter crash into it and left nothing but rubble, ash and melted cement in its wake. Except now it's restored, like nothing ever happened.

Your rickety dining table sits in the middle of the room, propped up by a hardcover book to make up for the fact that one leg is crooked. Your tiny double bed with your lumpy mattress is pushed up against the wall. The usual piles of clean and dirty laundry indiscriminately mixed together sits unattended on top of the unmade covers.

You don't understand.

Why is it all back to normal?

You shake your head, snapping yourself out of it.

Miguel… You need to get back to him and you don't have time for this right now.

"Lyla," you summon. A warm ping vibrates against your inner wrist as Lyla appears. "Take me back to the void."

Lyla shakes her head firmly. "I'm sorry I can't do that."

"What do you mean? Of course you can, you've brought us there twice. You did it when Miguel commanded you."

She peers up at you through her pink heart-shaped glasses, with a solemn look in her holographic eyes.

"The first time was a miscalculation. The second was to eliminate the continued threat to your life."

Her words stop you cold. 'Continued threat...' Is she referring to Miguel?

"Lyla, please. Stop messing around. Take me back to Miguel."

Lyla's eyes go blank, no longer the flippant expression you are so used to seeing.

"Request denied. My programming does not allow me to expose you to danger."

"He's going to die if we don't do something Lyla!" You shout at her.

There is a tremor in your hand. Your nerves are shot, exhausted and tired from everything that has happened in the last 24 hours and you can feel the tears pushing up against your throat.

"Isn't it part of your protocol to protect him?!"

"I was built to protect you. My primary directive is to make sure you're safe above all else. That is my purpose."

She recites the words as if she's reading from a manual. It's flat and emotionless in a way you've never known Lyla to be before. Like the line is hardwired into the very core of her basic coding. There are no funny jokes. No sass.

"Lyla, please," you beg.

She doesn't answer you. That same impassive expression as before is still on her face.

"Lyla..." you try again.

You scramble to think of your options. To devise a plan B. But to your horror, you can’t think of anything.

What are you meant to do? You’re not a super genius who can build source code out of thin air that can break the laws of physics. You have no superpowers. No magic that allows you to travel to other dimensions.

The only thing you know how to do is file claim insurance applications. You’re useless.

There's nothing to be done.

It's over.

Your legs give in from the oppressive weight of your realization. You slump to the floor, unable to hold yourself together as the hard wooden floor hits your knees. You fold in two, hunched over the floor and you let the ache inside your chest break and pour over and you cry.

When you come to some time later, you find yourself curled up on the floor. You don't know how long you must've been crying for. But it must’ve been long enough for you to have cried yourself to exhaustion and slipped into unconsciousness.

Turning onto your back, you stare up at the ceiling, shivering from the cold breeze of the evening coming through the window.

Your limbs are cramping from exhaustion. You're dehydrated. Mouth dry and eyes crusted with dried tears. There's a deep-seated headache burrowing into your skull. It's a struggle for you to get up from the floor into a seated position, as you properly take in your surroundings.

At first glance, this version of your apartment looks identical to yours, but on closer inspection there are some stark differences.

By the window, there are black out curtains hanging from the ceiling to allow for sleep-ins during daylight hours.

On your bed, amongst the mountain piles of laundry strewn haphazardly, there are items you don’t recognize. Oversized hoodies that are big enough to fit a bear. Male sweatpants. Socks so big they look like they're Christmas stockings.

Walking over to the kitchen area, there's a distinct lack of coffee. It's been replaced by expired Reese's Peanut Butter cups, milk duds, and Hershey bars that fill every corner of your kitchen cupboards to the brim, stuffed haphazardly on the upper shelves that you could never reach. They have even made their way into your nightstand and stuffed and hidden between books on the bookshelf.

Lyla doesn't even have to tell you where you are. You already know.

This is your home. In your other self's dimension. It belongs to Miguel's nena.

Miguel sent you here, the closest universe he knew of that was identical to yours, so that you could live out your days in safety, without him.

Fucking idiot.

This is not what you wanted.

Days pass.

It's an odd and empty existence, you've beaten the impossible odds and won against the universe itself and made it out alive. Yet you're not sure that anything about this truly qualifies as a victory.

For all you know, the world that is your home may have been destroyed.

After all that's what Stark said: there is no guarantee that just because you left, everything would go back to normal.

And who are you to argue with the (second) smartest man on earth?

There's no way of you knowing what the outcome was, and Lyla refuses to transport you out of this current dimension.

You spend most of your days curled into a ball in bed unable to summon the strength to keep yourself upright or awake for more than an hour at a time, haunted by the knowledge that your escape from your death might have doomed trillions to theirs.

In the hours in between, when that inescapable guilt doesn't eat into your mind, the only thing you are left with is replaying the moments of your life in the past three months.

It flits through your closed eyes like an old film reel and in every one of those moments, Miguel is there, reminding you of what you have now lost.

You feel hollowed out, scraped out and empty like there's nothing inside. The only time you manage to feel anything that resembles an emotion is when you clutch onto whatever piece of oversized clothing that once belonged to Miguel. The only physical trace you have to prove to yourself that he existed and it's not just some fantastical made up story in your mind.

Miguel once told you that anyone who gets lost in the void gets erased. Their very existence scrubbed from the records of the world. Does the fact that you can still remember him mean that he's still there? And if so, how much longer will you be able to mourn him before he's faded entirely in that space. Before your very memory of him and the love you have that sits inside you with nowhere to go is gone too?

Nothing about this feels like a happy ending.

In the first few days, you don't leave the house. You tell yourself that it's better that way. Now that Miguel is no longer here, the idea of walking out in into open streets in broad daylight seems strange to you.

Lyla tries to tempt you with exotic holidays.

“Bali, India! The world is your oyster, we can fly out first class tonight and do an Eat Pray Love for as long as you want to!” Lyla’s voice sings in your ear. "Thailand is lovely this time of the year, barely any tycoons."

Most of the time, you ignore her presence, burying your head into the pillow, pathetically hugging onto one of the oversized shirts that’s been left behind.

Everytime you hope to catch a whiff of the remnant traces of Miguel’s presence there. But there’s nothing. It just smells of stale detergent.

After surviving the end of the world, a lot of things that used to be important seems meaningless to you now.

Alive as you may be, there’s no real purpose for you carved out in this dimension. You don't go to work in the mornings, because the you of this universe died years ago. Showing up at your office at the Chrysler building would likely induce heart attacks amongst your old co-workers.

You could scour Careerbuilder for job ads, but there's a sour pit in your stomach that hugs tightly around your guts everytime you think of the prospect of having to speak to job recruiters.

You don't think you have it in you to lie to some stranger at an interview and pretend that being in front of a white screen poring over excel sheets 8 hours a day is the way you want to spend the rest of your life until you hit retirement.

Besides, rent is not an issue anymore. Nor is money when Lyla is there to take care of you and act as your digital sugar momma. A standing order for any and all bills needed to maintain this home had already been set up long before you arrived.

You feel sorry for Lyla. She's been programmed to take care of your mental and physical well being and you know she is at wit's end with your listless behavior.

She pulls out all the stops. Lyla orders take out for you, delivered right to your door to try to get you to eat. If she had a physical body, you think she would hold you down and force feed you.

But something is wrong with you, because even though every dish is your favorite, rounded up from your favorite restaurants in the city, for the first time in your life since you were born, you no longer have much of an appetite.

You usually only manage mouthfuls just to keep Lyla from constantly nagging, before you shove the take-out box back into the fridge and then crawl back into bed.

Everything tastes bland and grey. Everything around you seems to have lost its color and shine. Was the world around you always this dull?

On the fifth day, there is a familiar baby-pink box with Gladis' logo printed on the lid arriving at your doorstep.

“Surprise!” Lyla announces. “It’s your favorite! I ordered the luxury box with the elderflower lemon flavors, as well as the lychee-raspberry jello!”

You sit down by the table, staring at the beautifully adorned cupcakes in the box. Spirals of white and pink frosting with petals of edible flowers. There's freshly cut strawberries and blackberries and chocolate shavings on op.

Picking one up, you cram the whole cupcake into your mouth, trying to cling onto the memory of that first time when the flavor of lemon zest bursting on your tongue had made you squeal with happiness.

That doesn't happen.

This time, as the sugar hits the top of your mouth, all you can think about is how much you miss him. How things will never be the same without him.

How you'll never get to have him sit next to you, smiling softly as he watches you eat. That you'll never get to see him demolish a cupcake in one bite and leave frosting on his nose.

It doesn't feel the same, you just feel hollow. Wetness spills across your cheeks, and snot clogs your nose and throat. You must look like a looney, ugly crying with your mouth stuffed full of cupcake, barely swallowing.

After that Lyla doesn’t order them for you anymore.

It's morning you think, judging from the bright sun pouring in from the blinds.

Lyla is buzzing near your ear where you've taken off the watch and placed it on the pillow next to you for company.

"You need to get out of the house. You're turning into a social recluse. It's not a good look," she says, as she peers down at you over her pink-tinted glasses.

"How about I get a date for you? Have a fab night out on the town? I have a roller-dex of the top bachelors in New York. I'm happy to hack into their calendar!"

You ignore her, burying your face deeper into the pillow, hugging Miguel's worn hoodie tighter to your chest. You pull the cover over your head, but you can still hear her babble on through the thin separation of fabric.

"What's your type? Oscar Isaac? He’s hot– No, no you're right he's happily married and we don’t wanna be homewreckers here. What about Lenny Kravitz? Doesn't get cooler than Kravitz and he’s long divorced."

"Lyla stop," you groan, poking your head back up above the covers. You just want quiet. Just want to stay here cocooned in this space that is the closest you'll ever get to Miguel for as long as you can remember him, until that too is taken away from you.

"I'm fine. I don't need a date."

"You're not fine though. You've only eaten a box of cupcakes in the last week. You haven't showered and you look like a mess. Your hair is greasier than the BP oil spill off the gulf of Mexico. My purpose is to keep you safe, and that includes your mental and emotional levels, which are... " she stops, throwing up some diagnostics boxes in floating holograms, then makes a face. "Yikes."

She’s doing this on purpose. Talking incessantly, so that she can nag you into doing what she wants. Suddenly you gain newfound sympathy for Miguel. You used to think it was funny when she nagged him and got on his nerves, but now that you're on the end of it, you see how he must’ve suffered when Lyla was in one of these moods with him.

"Will you stop if I step out of the house for a walk," you offer as an olive branch, hoping for a little peace and quiet.

"How long of a walk?"

"Five."

"Minutes?!" Lyla screeches with outrage. "The general recommendation is 150 minutes of weekly exercise, I'm going to need at least an hour's walk from you boss-girl."

"Twenty minutes."

"Forty!"

"Half an hour, or I'm going back to bed and wearing earplugs."

Lyla grins. "Deal".

The streets here look the same as the ones in your dimension, down to the Bodega owned by the old Korean couple around the corner. This version of earth is identical to yours in almost every way you know of.

Except in this New York, instead of Matthew Ellis, a man named Biden who is apparently over 100 years old (give or take a few years) is president.

In this reality, Leonardo Di Caprio apparently won an Oscar, while Amy Adams still hasn't, which is nuts to you.

The Avengers also don't seem to exist here. Though Superheroes still seem prevalent. A group of misfits that refers to themselves as the Fantastic Four seems to dominate the news cycle more often than not.

Ahead of you, the street splits into two paths and you take a corner into the smaller street that you know should cut through to a dog park.

But it doesn’t. Instead of green grass fields and park benches, you end up in a small narrow dead end of a street. Somehow you're lost. Shit. You should've paid more attention.

Looking up, you turn your head left and right to try to make sense of where you could be. You’re just about to pull up google maps, when the flickering light of the one sole streetlamp illuminating this alley catches your attention.

You're 12 blocks from Chinatown, but you recognize this alley even though it shouldn't be here.

From a distance, you spot the familiar red stall. The same small rickety table. The same red cloth draped on top. The same old lady with her abnormally large shiny head, comically large sunglasses and white-blue robe. The same giant sign spelling out: Fortune teller.

Only this time, there's only one folding chair set up in front of it.

She takes one look at you, as you sit down with a look of familiarity in her milky-white eyes.

"Your bad luck is gone," she says.

You should be more surprised that the scam fortune teller from another dimension seemingly remembers the conversation you had with her other self. But it doesn't. You've learned by now that nothing is as it seems.

Random near death accidents are not just due to bad luck. A superhero that repeatedly saves you isn’t just doing it out of sheer goodwill and duty. A starmap is not just a starmap, and you’re willing to bet your life that this fortune teller is not just a fortune teller.

“Who are you?” you ask her.

“Is that of importance to you?”

“Yes.”

She takes off her sunglasses and stares directly into your eyes. Without the obstruction of dark tinted lenses, you can see that it's not glaucoma causing the whiteness in her pupils. In her eyes, there are galaxies, millions of tiny dots of glowing stars, endless and mesmerizing as you stare back into them.

"My name is Ulana. I’m a Watcher. My role is to observe the Multiverse from the Nexus of all realities.”

There’s no longer that harmless demeanor and friendly smile that makes you drop your guard. She holds herself with reverence as she speaks, with the aura of the divine.

“Does that mean you are able to observe every reality in this moment?” you ask.

“Yes.”

The image of your New York with its pink cracked sky and the chaos you left it in crowds your vision.

"Can you tell me what happened to my old world after I left? Is it still there?"

"Your old home is intact and safe."

You let out a shaky breath you didn’t know you had been holding all this time.

Thank god.

Relieved tears spill from your cheeks. Somehow you haven't single-handedly caused the destruction and death of whole worlds and countless lives.

Even if you can never go back there, that place will always be your home, and your chest warms at the thought that even without you it will always still be there.

You take a moment to gather yourself, to wipe the errant tears that are welling up with the back of your hand.

Then you take a deep calming breath before you ask her the question that has been plaguing your mind since you arrived in this reality.

"Is Miguel still alive in the void?" you ask her.

"Your husband is still alive. But he doesn't have much time left. He's fading."

Your fingers curl into fists on top of your knees, "How do I save him?"

"I couldn't tell you.” She shakes her head sadly. "My kind is not allowed to intervene. We are only meant to observe the ongoings of the universes. I've already meddled too much.”

Ducking down, she reaches under her desk, sorting through the pile of junk paper, before she leans back up over the table.

"This is the only help I can give you," she says, reaching over to place something into your hands.

You look down to see a familiar bright yellow Star Map.

"He'll be home this time," she tells you.

You're standing on the doorsteps of the old brownstone on 177A Bleecker Street, staring up at the old ornate wooden front doors.

Unlike last time you were here, there's no hesitation in you anymore. It doesn't matter that you've come alone with no other superhero to validate your mad and fantastical story about the Cosmos that was out to kill you.

You don't care if Strange thinks you're a random crazy from the streets.

If he doesn't believe you, then you'll make him believe you. If he tries to have you hauled out, you'll kick and drag and scream at the top of your lungs, and chain yourself to his front door if that's what it takes.

You bring your hand to the door knocker and tap it three times. Then you wait.

Nothing.

Didn't the fortune teller say he was going to be home this time?

Goddamnit, was she a scam after all? What kind of name is Ulana for a celestial being anyhow? Did you end up wasting another ten dollars?

You grit your teeth and step forward again, grabbing the door knocker to pound it down against the front door, even harder this time and you don’t stop at one or two, you keep slamming it down fervently.

Mid-knock, the door creaks, swinging open, as an exasperated voice greets you.

"Yes, yes, yes. I'm coming. There's no need to knock that aggressively, I'm not going to come to the door any fast–"

He stops mid-sentence as he looks at you. For a man you've never met, Dr. Strange's eyes go wide at the sight of you standing on his doorsteps. His eyes are filled with the disbelief of a man who's seen a ghost.

"You're alive," he says.

“Sit down and make yourself comfortable,” Strange says as he hurriedly pulls out a chair by the old oak table in his dining room.

“I’ll make us some tea,” he says.

He waves his cape with a dramatic flare in the empty space, and from a distance you hear a small click, before you realize that he must’ve used magic to put on the kettle.

For someone that’s supposed to be a sorcerer, you don’t know why the hell he bothers having a kettle. Seems a bit redundant, couldn’t he just use magic to instantly heat water?

You sit down as instructed, hands folded in your lap as you try not to fidget.

There’s a prolonged and uncomfortable silence as you both wait for the water to boil.

Strange opens then closes his mouth, as if he’s unsure of who should speak first. In the end though, he doesn’t say anything at all, he just drums his fingers impatiently on the wooden surface as he smiles politely but awkwardly at you. Across the room, the water starts simmering to a boil.

This wasn’t what you had expected. You had counted on him to try to kick you out and you having to make a passionate plea for him to listen to you. Instead he’d opened the door and insisted on inviting you in and now the two of you are drowning in a sea of uncomfortable silence.

There’s a tinny whistle from the kettle, and Strange darts up from the chair, as if the interruption was a godsend. He rushes over to pick it up, before walking back to the table with it at a much slower pace.

Then he stands next to you, tilting the snout of the kettle into your small tea cup.

Strange stares intently at your face as he pours the boiling water into the cup. So focused on you that he doesn't pay any attention to the level of the hot water, until it spills over the rim and onto the table surface below. Then he seemingly snaps himself out of it.

"Shit! Sorry," Strange begins. He wipes up the spillage with his robe, even though there are perfectly good paper towels behind him, even though he could’ve just used magic to make it vanish in the blink of an eye.

"You look exactly like her," he says, then he stops himself.

Strange considers the statement and does a curt little nod at himself as if berating himself for how stupid that comment sounded. "Which of course you do. You are her, just… from another dimension."

From your time with Miguel, you’ve been able to glean from his childish rants about the man’s “ugly” and “useless” and “impractical” cape that there’s a hostility there towards Strange that goes beyond just Miguel being Miguel.

Judging from the guilt in this man’s eyes as he looks at you from across the table, you can guess that there is a complicated history between Strange and Miguel and you.

“Did you know me?” you ask.

“Yeah, we were friends. Good friends,” Strange corrects himself. Then a sadness seeps into his eyes as he stops wiping the table and pulls back his robe close to his body. “Although I supposed I wasn’t a great friend to you near the end of things.”

He places the cup down on the table in front of you, the rising steam wafts through the air, smelling of mint and honey as he drags out the chair and sits himself next to you.

"Why don't you tell me everything from the start," Strange asks you.

So you do. You tell him of that first day when you fell out of the Chrysler building and was saved by Miguel. Tell him about how Miguel saved you again and again and how you tried to trap him with cookies and how you fell out of the Chrysler building a second time on purpose, which makes Strange laugh that sounds fond and warm.

You tell him of the void, the fortune teller, the Avengers and everything in between, and how despite surviving all of that Miguel had exiled himself to the void and sent you here by yourself, with each event you tell him his eyes grow sadder.

When you're done, Strange nods solemnly. He picks up his cup and takes a small sip of his tea to buy himself time to gather his thoughts. Then he finally speaks again. "What can I do to help?"

"Miguel is still in the void. I need your help to send me there so I can get him back."

Strange frowns, then goes entirely quiet as he stares out of the window in deliberation. It takes several moments before he speaks again.

"The void is a dangerous place, stay too long and you will be erased from existence. If you go in you may not be able to find your way out and I wouldn’t be able to help you from here."

“That’s fine, I just need your help to get there” you say.

He sets down his cup as he continues. "I can’t in good conscience send you back out there. I've already broken my promise to keep you safe once."

Frustration brims in your chest. As flattered as you are over Strange’s concern over your safety, you bristle at the fact that there seems to be none extended to Miguel’s. Every second you spend here is another second wasted.

“Miguel is there. If I don’t save him, he’s going to be erased from existence.”

That doesn’t seem to move the doctor in the slightest.

“For Miguel, his own life is a small price to pay in exchange for yours. He’d sacrifice the whole world for you to live.”

“That’s not a choice for him to make.”

Strange scratches his thumb over his bearded jaw, as if he's trying to figure out how to solve a puzzle, before speaking again.

"Right now with Miguel gone, the volatile cosmic energy surrounding you is stabilized. The version of you in this universe died and is viewing your presence as an equivalent exchange. You could stay here. You'd be safe. Miguel would've known that. That's probably why he sent you here.”

"I don't want to stay here if Miguel isn't here," you counter.

Leaning back in his chair, Strange up at the ceiling in deep thought.

"It's risky, if I sent you there, you may not even be able to find him. He might not even have his physical shape anymore, he’s been there too long by now."

His head ducks back down as he looks at your face, observing you for long moments.

You don't know what it is he sees, but a small amused smile quirks at his lip as he shakes his head again.

"But... I think you already know the risks and nothing I can say will dissuade you will it?" he says.

You nod.

It's not that you've stopped being scared of the void. It's not that the very thought of it doesn't fill your stomach with a cold dread. It's that Miguel is there, and there is no risk you're not willing to take to have the chance to see him again.

You square your chest and confidence swells inside you with your answer.

"Send me there."

~ Next Issue

Credit and Dedication: We're almost there guys! Next issue is going to be the final one. Thanks to everyone who has been with me on this ride! I cannot wait to share the final conclusion with you all.

Special thank you (as always) go out to my bestie: @thirstworldproblemss who is a big reason this story even lifted off the ground in the first place.

Big BIG BIGGEST thanks to my muse @guruan who has gifted me with so much inspiration be it thirsty twitter art of our favorite rude spider or her own insanely gorgeous art. Have you seen this heartbreaking beauty?!

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fi #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderverse #oscar isaac #across the spiderverse fanfiction #across the spiderverse #marvel mcu #marvel #miguel ohara fic #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #spiderverse fanfiction

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universe-friday · 17 days

Text

EXCERPT #26:

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

Thalia has been very friendly lately, old sport.

And I mean literally friendly…

Call me crazy, but how can someone kiss me and listen to me speak so highly of them just to go back to calling me ‘bro’ and ‘dude’... Huh? That’s not normal, right?

I wouldn’t know! I… haven’t really done this before…

Old sport, I know she likes me. You’d expect me to start doubting it now, right?

But I know... Have you ever just known? The way they act around you, maybe even by the way they initiated a kiss… I am many things, old sport, but I am not oblivious.

Why are they trying to push it away… push me away? Am I dangerous? Repulsive? Do the times we spent together mean nothing to her, despite meaning everything to me?

I just can’t think straight right now, old sport. Maybe I’ll just have to wait for this rollercoaster to inevitably stop.

I want to fight for it - I’m willing to fight for it. But I don’t even know who my enemy is yet. Is it her? Or is it myself…?

[…]

I was wondering around late last night, February. I found myself at the mouth of this tunnel. The entrance is illuminated by street lamps, yet, look any further and complete darkness stares right back at you. I was always afraid of the dark.

I was looking for that light, the one they always talk about, at the end of the tunnel. You were always that light, February. I even tried to call out to you.

For a moment, I could’ve sworn I heard you call back.

Perhaps, you, February, finally answer, but how can one be sure it's not just an echo? The voice responds, copying and mocking your own words and pleas. If you're shouting back, February, you have to be louder than that.

The definition of love is so old-fashioned. In every language, I'll shout from the mountain tops how much I am in love with you, truly. If only people would know what I really meant by it. If only you really knew what I meant by it.

If you're shouting back, February, don't let it be dismissive. I am being clearer than I ever have been. You have to understand that I'm serious. I need you to understand.

I need you to understand this is why I do everything I do. I do it for you. The calls, these letters… At this point, I know there’s no escaping the City. But you’re my escape from reality, February. If you ever do answer, I’m free. But for now, I am restricted to merely shouting to a void and calling it by your name.

You must wonder too what to do with that information. I know. But you could at least show me you’re listening. That you hear my pleas. If you are trying to move on with your life, tell me, because I will remain here until I do. How could I ever move on if I didn’t find out if it was you in that tunnel?

Besides, how could I know it was you? After all, we are in Universe City. The sound could have easily been another one of those dreaded cyborgs.

If it’s you, February, I am willing to hear you out, always. But you must emerge from the shadows and take a step into my light. You have to show me.

Perhaps if I cannot see you, I should stop trying to contact you. Am I latching onto a rotting idea that I should just let die? Is that what we are?

How am I ever supposed to get over this if I continue talking to you? I wake up in dread and heartache every day, knowing you’re not here. And, although the City is not a great alternative, I either live my life here or continue to do so with that ache… That dread.

This is no way to live. Any level-headed person would agree… If I can’t hear from you, February, perhaps you shouldn’t hear from me.

[...]

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saphirered · 1 year

Note

Because i like pain, can i get basically the sunken tomb/those who walk away (tlovm) but it's reader who dies, not vex? She jumps in front of vex as the blast goes off. Can be either Vax or percy x reader.

Turned out to a percy x reader and hope you like the result. Angsty but with a happy ending. 😘

He can’t move. He can’t breathe. His heart has stopped in his chest. Life has ceased to be linear, or perhaps even moving at all. He is stuck in that one doomed moment. He is trapped within his own body with is own bloody mind. He can’t. He can’t. Percy can’t even think or process. He’s stuck in that single image of you. That damned sarcophagus. It looked fine. Everything was fine. Vex gave it a once over. The three of you pushed the top off and there was the deathwalker’s ward still on the corpse of the previous owner. You’d stepped to the end, with Vex. You’d taken to observing the intricate runes on the inside. Vex warned him not to touch but it was too late. He’d reached in and set off a trap. It would have hit her if you hadn’t pushed her aside and in doing so, knocked yourself off balance and into the full force of whatever damned thing hit you.

Some kind of magic struck out, hit you square in the chest and sent you flying like some rag doll. You hit the ground with a sickening smack and crack. That breath, that single exhale that left your body unmoving, that’s where Percy got stuck, watching as the light in your eyes dimmed, those eyes that kept staring at him. They all ran to you but he was stuck. You weren’t moving. You weren’t responding to their calls nor pleas. There was nothing left of you to respond. Once that dawned on him, once it hit him what he had done, had caused, he was left broken. Somehow his legs carried him to your side, where Vax held you in his arms, Vex clutched your hand unable to speak, Pike rushed to heal you but there’s nothing to heal, nothing to be done. You were gone. You are gone. You’re gone.

Things move quickly after. Percy doesn’t know what grace kept him on his feet when he found it within him to join the others. He could not look away from you. Kash had already started whatever ritual he was performing. A resurrection rite. Everything moved so fast. Questions were asked, what happened how did this happen, who was with you? He was but he couldn’t answer. He couldn’t break away from your cold dead eyes. They’ll forever haunt him. They were so full of life just mere moments before when you cracked a joke and smiled, calling him out on his lack of divine worship. He’d retorted with some clever witty remark. Those were the last words he’d spoken to you. He couldn’t even bloody remember them. He can’t even remember your last words.

But then reason hits. It’s not working. The ritual it’s not working. It has to work. It has to work! The Raven Queen, she resides over death and apparently resurrections do not sit well with her or her domain. The others try to suggest things, solutions, but they are not that. Percy finds it within himself to speak some desperate sense; they’re under a lake, where are they going to go? They’re losing time. This has to work now. They can’t give up! He’s begging them, begging anyone, everyone. This can’t be happening! The spell breaks and you’re not moving. Percy’s ears are ringing. He wants to shout and scream and cry but inside him a void begins to grow and leaves him terrified of himself.

Several breaths pass and then, by some miracle, the light returns to your eyes, you shoot up and you’re gasping for air. You’re awake. He’s riddled with guilt once more. You turn to him and stare at him with those damned eyes and while he sees the life in them now, he’s haunted with that blank stare of your corpse.

“What happened?” How is he supposed to answer that question? He was an idiot and should have listened. This is all his fault. He got reckless and greedy and stupid and it cost you your life!

“I touched the armour and you… you were…” He can’t speak the words. The others speak but he does not hear them. “It was an accident.” Why do you keep looking at him. Your eyes should be filled with hatred and anger but you’re not. You’re relieved. You look at him as if this is not all on him. Accident or not, he is still to blame. Luckily distraction comes quickly. The armour is procured and in Vax’s possession for some reason.

You’re back on your feet and a bit wobbly but insist you want to get out of here as much as the others do. Pike has you at first but whether out of habit or sheer guilt, Percy find himself next to you and you lean on him whenever you stumble slightly. He catches you every time you don’t reach for him. It’s definitely a force of habit because each touch is torture. With each touch that scene keeps replaying. Outside on the banks of the lake Vox Machina decides it’s time to take a rest. Everyone’s exhausted and hurt from the fight to get out. Goodbyes are exchanged Zahra and Kash and upon the sunset Percy wanders off on his own. He had the intention of finding Vax, and apologise for what he caused. He did and got punched in the face. Seems that your best friend gave him a smidge of what he deserves. He deserves so much worse but it’s something. But then you have to find him, alone, ass in the snow, processing the pain in his jaw and contemplating every single mistake in his life that could have spared you this fate.

“Percy?” You come up to him. There’s still a slight tremble in your step despite your self-assured expression. No matter how well you might be at hiding your feelings, you always have a tell. You may pretend this doesn’t affect you but he sees it does. That just makes it worse. Still you find it within yourself to try and make him feel better. He wishes you wouldn’t. It’d be easier if you were angry with him, even better if you too decided to take your pound of flesh. Instead you kneel down next to him and look at what must be the mark of his preview to punishment.

“I fell…” He tries a poor excuse but you don’t buy it. Especially not with the extra set of footprints leading away. You place your palm against his cheek. Your touch is cold, he assumes because of the snow but for some reason he cannot help but imagine the worst. Still he leans into your touch.

“Must have been a strange fall. How does one fall on their ass and face simultaneously?” You joke and normally you’d have earned a chuckle or a retort. ‘With great difficulty’ is what you expected him to say or something along those lines but instead you just get silence and downcast eyes that refuse to meet yours. You settle on your knees and bring your other palm to cup his face and lift his gaze to meet yours. Percy bites the inside of his cheek.

“How can you pretend this doesn’t affect you? How can you take this so lightly?” You pull back and fold your hands together to preserve some warmth. Your skin feels wrong, your body feels wrong. Every breath you take you’re suddenly aware of. The blood pumping through your veins, it’s as if you can feel it and it hurts. Everything hurts and you feel as if you’re going to burst any second as if someone could prick you with a needle and suddenly you’d explode. You feel vulnerable and have become so incredibly aware of your mortality, in anything you do, anything you have done; every choice you’ve ever made. It haunts you past, present and future. You don’t know what to do with yourself. You thought of going out into the trees just so scream but that wouldn’t help. You’d just be left with the pain. You thought of ignoring it but that turned on you quickly. You noticed the silence when Percy was around. When you’re near him you feel alive and not some dead person walking. You feel like you can take on this life without being afraid of what happened and what you might face. You feel as if as long as he’s near you’ll be alright. That’w why you came to find him in the first place, didn’t you. You hoped he’d help you see things as they had been before your accident, but that didn’t seem possible.

“Because if I don’t I’ll just be terrified. I’ll break down until there’s nothing left of me and I don’t think I’ll be able to cope. This is all that’s keeping me together. You’re keeping me together.” Those words are harder to speak out loud than you thought, as if speaking them makes them real and undeniable. You suppose that’s true. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat along with your breathing. It just won’t go away and the more you try to ignore it, the worse it gets.

“You died because of me. You shouldn’t even be able to look at me!” There’s so many things running through your head that want to respond to Percy. You manage to stop some of the more irrational ones, the ones you know you’ll regret the moment you speak them.

“Is that what you think you deserve? My anger? My hatred? You won’t get it. Yes, you caused this but it was an accident. That doesn’t make it right but if you are in such desperate need to repent for a mistake, you can do so! I need you, Percy! I need you right now because without you I fear I will fall apart! So please, I’m begging you; do not abandon me now.” You plead. He’s unmoving. You reach out. He doesn’t flinch or turn away. He doesn’t respond so you halt and repeat once more. “Please, Percy. I’m begging you…” You place your hand on his cheek and this time he leans into your palm, even if hesitantly so. You’re about to pull away, seeing that reluctance but before you can his hand clasps over yours and holds it in place.

“I will not ask for your forgiveness-“ You got to speak but he’s not finished yet. “I will not accept it should you offer it to me because I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself. But you’re right. If this is what you want, I’ll do it. I’d hand you the stars on a silver platter if you asked. I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make this right.”

“Percy…” You sigh. That’s not what you meant. You don’t mean to ask for his compliance or service. You ask him to be your friend, your confidant, your rock when the tides get too much in the same way he has always been for you. You’re asking him to be himself, nothing more, nothing less but here he is offering you the world.

“I won’t ask you to accept or turn me away. I will be at your whims for however long you wish me to be-“ Percy keeps going. He has to make this right. You give him a chance to prove himself worthy of you and all you’ve given him. You’ve given him the chance to truly earn your forgiveness in your eyes and his. But you interrupt him by literally placing his palm over his mouth to silence him. Once you make eye contact and you give him a silent ‘are you done’ and he nods you let go.

“Then I order you to stop now.” His heart skips a beat. He cannot breathe. “I don’t need a knight in shining armour or some servant at my beck and call. I just need you. I just need you to be here, now. I don’t need the moon on a string, or you begging on your knees. I don’t need you to fetch me some drink or write me my correspondence. I need you to just be you.” That punch hits far harder than anyone could have dealt. It’s the sheer realisation that his life is more valuable than his actions and choices and deeds. His life exceeds a purpose. It’s a terrifying reality but then he looks at you and sees through you, into your own fear and doubt and he sees, that’s what you need. You need someone who understands fear and pain and he does. Gods he knows he does. That’s why you need him to be here and to be him. That’s why you can look him in the eye. You feel like he’s the only one that truly understands right now because he too, albeit a long time ago came to realise how fragile mortality truly is and all the thoughts that accompany that revelation.

“I know.” He whispers nodding to himself. He reaches out. He wraps his arms around you and holds you close. You allow yourself to twist and mould into his side, tuck under his arm and curl against his chest. This feels real. This is real. You can hear his heartbeat and the rise and fall of his chest with every breath; something you had previously not been aware of nor ever focussed truly focussed on unless it was out of the ordinary. You take a deep ragged breath yourself. You feel cold trail down your cheeks from your eyes and only truly process you’re crying when gloved fingers wipe them away. Percy whispers words of comfort; meaningless he might say but these are the words he had wished he heard when he was alone and suffering. You pull yourself closer to him until the tears subside.

There’s still a long way to go. This does not resolve the issue nor Percy’s guilt. This doesn’t make anything right or change anything. It’s the beginning of a road to a better future you carve out together. Wherever it leads, he will be at your side as long as this world allows. He’ll fight tooth to nail to have it be so. He’ll make this right. But most of all, he’ll be there for you.

#percy de rolo x reader #percival de rolo x reader #vox machina x reader #critical role x reader #legend of vox machina x reader #legend of vox machina #critical role #percy de rolo #percival de rolo #vox machina #tlovm x reader #critical role fanfiction #critical role fanfic

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wolfjackle-creates · 1 year

Text

I'll Carry Your Heart with Me (Until I find You Again): Part 1

I'll be posting parts 1 and 2 right now. The rest should be up later tonight, but I'm gonna be tied up the next five or six hours.

As you can see, we have a title for this fic! (I may drop the parentheses. Been going back and forth on that.)

Summary: Danny and Jason meet shortly after Jason becomes a ghost in the zone and become good friends. This segment will cover their first two meetings.

Word Count: 2k words

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Jason sat on the island that appeared around him when he landed in this strange place and stared into the swirling green void. It should have been unsettling, but it felt peaceful. If he closed his eyes, it felt like his dad would be right behind him and Alfred was going to call them in for dinner any minute.

But he was surrounded by silence and all alone.

He screamed just to make a noise and turned away from the void. Behind him a punching bag had appeared. Good. With another yell he went to town on it, practicing all the punches and kicks he’d learned at Batman’s side. Gloves formed over his hands, making him realize his clothes had morphed into his Robin costume.

It just made his punches that much harder.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been going at the bag when he realized some of the yells he was hearing weren’t his own.

“And fuck Chaucer!”

Chaucer? What could that be about? But the ridiculousness of it was enough to pull him from his anger. Robin faded as Jason, literary nerd, took his place. No one dissed Chaucer in his hearing. Where was the yelling coming from?

He flew up and looked around before shaking his head. He wasn’t alive anymore and his sight wasn’t his best sense here. Closing his eyes, he sent out his awareness. This close to his island, he could tell whenever anyone was nearby.

And there they were! Close, but not uncomfortably so which was why he hadn’t noticed sooner. Following the feeling, it didn’t take long to find a boy with a backpack on shouting and throwing what looked like green fire at pieces of paper.

“Oi!” he called. “Who’re you to diss Chaucer near my lair?”

“Well maybe if he would just make fucking sense, I wouldn’t have to diss him!” The boy’s hands still glowed green, and Jason fell into a defensive position.

“He does make sense! Not his fault if you’re too dense to know it.” Jason cautiously moved closer, keeping a close eye on the boy’s posture to prepare for an attack. People in this world loved to fight, but while the kid remained wary, he didn’t move to attack. As soon as Jason was close enough, he grabbed one of the papers out of the air.

It felt weird. Both more and less solid that normal paper. Where had this come from? He took his eyes off the boy to skim the paper. It was a page from an exam? Completely covered in red ink. Well-deserved red ink, too.

“Are these your answers?” Jason couldn’t help but look up with a raised eyebrow. “You really don’t understand Chaucer, do you?”

“It’s not my fault I don’t have time to study!” complained the boy. He drew up his knees and covered his face with his no-longer-glowing hands. “I’m so tired and it doesn’t make sense and Lancer doesn’t care.”

“Tired? But we’re dead. We don’t need to sleep. I didn’t even know there was a school for ghosts. Where is it? Is it any good?”

The boy pulled his hands away and looked at him with furrowed brows. “You, you don’t know who I am?”

Jason bristled and stood a little taller. “Should I?” he asked. Maybe he should venture out from his lair more. He just felt so uncomfortable anytime he left that he hadn’t bothered. What if someone came and tried to take it from him and he wasn’t there to protect it?

“No! It’s just… Everyone I’ve met has already learned about me from somewhere.” A ring of light surrounded his waist and passed over his body, leaving a living human in his place. Instinctively, Jason raised his hands again and flared his core in warning, but the boy raised his hands and sent out no-harm, peace pulses. “I’m Danny. The halfa. Half-dead, half-alive. Half-ghost, half-human.”

“How…?” Jason didn’t even know how to finish his sentence and let it trail unfinished. Though, he had seen people come back to life when he was Robin. So, maybe it did make sense.

Danny shrugged. “My parents are scientists studying ghosts. They built a portal to the zone and because I was stupid, it turned on while I was inside. Thousands of volts of electricity and ectoplasm killed and revived me at the same time.”

“That’s why the paper feels weird…” Jason grabbed one of them again and ran his fingers along it. “It’s from Earth.”

“Yep. My latest failed English test. I just don’t have the time to read the books. And when I do, I don’t see the same things Mr. Lancer swears are there! Or I don’t understand them.” Danny sighed and rubbed his face again. “I hate it. I was a straight A student before I died.”

Jason looked between the paper and the boy. “Why has it been so much harder since you died?”

“So many other ghosts are trying to get through the portal to spend time on Earth. And when they do, they hurt people or cause property damage or try and hunt me for sport. I have to stop them. Even if it’s the middle of the night or during class.”

“Oh, you’re a superhero. I was a hero, too, before I died.” He let his Robin uniform replace the civilian clothes and grinned at Danny. “I’m Jason. I’d say nice to meet you, but I can’t like anyone who disses Chaucer.”

“Why do you like him so much?”

“Do you have the book with you?” asked Jason, nodding his head at Danny’s backpack.

Danny shrugged it off and pulled out a book. “Yeah, why?”

“C’mon. I’ll show you.” He turned and headed back to his lair, gesturing for Danny to follow him. On his island was a building, the outside rather plain, like any run down apartment building in Gotham. But the door led directly to Alfred’s kitchen in the manor. He held it open and waved Danny through.

The boy, still in human form, looked around curiously. “You know, no one’s ever let me come to their island before. Or enter their door.”

Jason shrugged. “Well, I need to prove you wrong about Chaucer and no reason we can’t be comfortable as we do. And if I change your mind, then we can be friends!”

“And if you don’t change my mind?”

“I take you outside and we fight it out like proper ghosts.” Jason grinned. “It’ll be fun.”

Danny laughed. “All right, do your best.”

“So, the page I saw was full of questions on the Wife of Bath and her prologue and tale, so we’ll start there. To really understand her, you have to know what women dealt with in the fourteenth century…”

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Jason tried not to worry when Danny didn’t come back right away despite promising to return for more English tutoring. Jason also planned to help him figure out how to balance a civilian and hero life. He looked over the lesson plans for both English and martial arts training that he’d made for the hundredth time.

He was going to start with how to safely fall. Just as Dick had taught him back when Bruce first brought him home. Was Dick happy that he had Bruce to himself again now that Jason was gone? Shaking his head to dispel the thoughts, he looked around for something to distract himself. Bread. He could make bread. Alfred taught him how and kneading was excellent stress relief.

He’d just finished kneading and set the dough in a covered bowl to proof when he felt the unmistakable shiver that meant someone was coming close to his haunt. His Robin uniform replaced jeans and a t-shirt as he flew out the kitchen towards the intruder.

Only to laugh and relax when he saw Danny.

“So, the halfa returns! I was starting to think you didn’t like me.” Jason said it with a grin to prove it was a joke, even as something in his core relaxed.

“Sorry, life’s been hectic. Do you know Skulker? He got through the portal again and it took me three days to get him contained. And as soon as I did, Technus was out. And then my parents built a new defense system for the house that I had to dismantle before it could kill me. Again.”

“Woah, woah, wait. What was that last one?”

Danny paused. “Did I not tell you about my parents?”

“Not really. Just that they study ghosts.”

“Hunt, more like. They build ghost weapons to destroy ghosts. It’s why I haven’t told them about me. They’d accept me, I’m sure of it. But… then they talk about how they’d like to rip a ghost molecule-by-molecule and I can’t get the words out.”

Jason let out a low whistle. “And I thought I won the lottery for terrible birth parents. But at least I had Bruce and Alfred. You should contact the Justice League, get help. I can tell you how.”

But Danny just waved a hand in the air. “A year and a half ago, I would’ve jumped at the offer. But I’ve got it under control now. And I don’t want anyone with powers in Amity. What if they get overshadowed? Then I’d be fighting someone with both meta abilities and ghost abilities.”

“Overshadowed?” Jason wasn’t sure he’d heard the term before.

“You know, when you take over a human’s body and control it.”

Jason blinked. “We can do that?”

“You… didn’t know? How long have you been a ghost?”

Jason tried to consider. It was impossible to tell time in the Realms. The area off his island was always the same swirling green with no sun or moon in sight. And he wasn’t sure how long it had taken to gain consciousness after dying. He didn’t think it was immediate. “I’m… not sure. I died December 1st XX. What’s the date on Earth now?”

“So recently? I’ve never met such a young ghost before. Its only been a few weeks. Today’s the twentieth.”

That wasn’t possible. Jason shook his head. “No, that can’t be. I know I’ve been here longer than that. I know how long it takes me to read a book and how many I’ve read.”

“Time in the zone can be a bit wonky.” Danny clasped Jason’s arm. The gesture made him flinch, though he knew it was supposed to be comforting. Danny’s arms fell to his side again. “Sorry.”

Needing to change the subject, Jason asked, “So overshadowing, huh? What else can ghosts do?”

The grin Danny gave him convinced him he had the right idea. “Oh, you have no idea. How about instead of whatever you were going to show me, I teach you to fight like a ghost?”

Jason got an overwhelming feeling of fun-excitement-mischief that weren’t his own and his eyes widened. “Can I sense your emotions? Is that another ghost thing?”

Danny laughed and it was filled with so much enjoyment that Jason couldn’t even be offended. “Dude, you really don’t know anything. We can project emotions to other ghosts. It’s easy. Think something at me.”

Jason bit his lip as he considered what to do. His eyes lit up and he tapped Danny on the nose as he thought hard game-tag-play-fun before flying away as fast as he could.

Danny shouted after him, “You are so not getting away from me!”

As expected, Danny used the game to show him all the cool things ghosts could do. He could shoot energy beams now! Just like Kori! Or, well he would be just like her once he got a bit better at controlling them.

After who knows how long, they ended up lying on their backs on the grass, exhausted from the exertion. Jason wasn’t even sure who was It anymore.

It had been the most fun he'd had in longer than he cared to remember.

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Have all the fluff. I love them so much.

Not much of a tag list yet since this is so new, but I can add more on if you'd like.

@britcision, @echoednonny

#dpxdc #danny fenton #jason todd #dead on main #jason will throw hands if you diss chaucer in his hearing #or he may convert you to a fan #but you will not end the meeting in the same shape you started it in #and now they both have new friends

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seniaasaysstuff · 10 months

Text

satoru gojo getting mind-broken by suguru geto and toji fushiguro.

y’all gonna hate me for this🤭 2k words of porn with feelings? Maybe not.

-warnings- nsfw content🔞, mind break, non-con to dub-con to con??? Double anal penetration, rough oral sex, rough anal sex, overstimulation, nipple play, mind shattering orgasms.

I wrote two endings cause my heart couldn’t take it😩‼️ bad ending is first rip lol💀

@princeasimdiya12 thank you for your request!

———————————————————————“Satoru! It's been a while.” Suguru Geto yelled from behind, Satoru Gojo’s old friend who some even used to call them lovers.

Gojo was taken aback at the figure of his old friend and he was so dumbstruck by him that it led to him turning off his infinity.

It was that moment of weakness that got him caught by Suguru Geto. He was sealed in someone’s barrier and swept away.

Satoru tried his best to keep his thoughts in check but it was all a mess. He didn't understand how Suguru was alive. He had killed him. He had mourned him. When Gojo killed Suguru he felt as if a part of him died with him but to find out that he was alive?

Satoru didn't know what to do. His entire body shook. He didn't know what to do or think. It was as if his mind was paralyzed. He looked around the realm and all he could see was darkness.

Sensing someone was there his deep voice rang out, “I can sense that someone is here. Show yourself.”

“My My Satoru quite the observation.” Suguru Geto’s voice rumbled, his tone felt sarcastic. “Did you miss me?” he mockingly whispered but it was as if his voice vibrated through the void-like place.

“Who are you?” Satoru yelled, his voice shook with pain. “I thought you knew Satoru.” the man impersonating Geto spoke as he approached him. Gojo could just stand there as the man got near him. Suguru gently caressed his cheek. “I missed you Satoru,” He whispered, letting his breath tickle Satoru’s ears.

Satoru fumed, he was furious. “My six eyes tell me you're Suguru geto but MY SOUL KNOWS OTHERWISE! SO HURRY AND TELL ME! ANSWER WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?” Satoru shouted, his voice filled with rage.

“Heh!” Suguru laughed. “How'd you know?” he chuckled.

Gojo spat on the man pretending to be Suguru. Suguru’s facial expressions changed. “I was trying to go easy on you but I guess I was being too complacent.” He spoke coldly. “Deal with him.”

The minute those words were spoken, a flurry of men approached Gojo. Satoru wasn't really able to see anything, he tried to fight them but he couldn't do anything. He didn't have his infinity and he was quickly subdued. He felt a weight, something heavy holding him down when he attempted to move. It was something like a chain as it made noise as it dragged.

He was tied around a pillar, his hands bound and his legs spread apart and shackled by chains. One man roughly wrapped a cloth around his mouth. All he could do was move his tongue helplessly underneath the layers of cloth. “Suguru-” he attempted to growl through his gag.

“Nobody can hear ya hon.” A bemused voice that sounded quite similar to the man he had killed a long time ago was heard. Gojo’s eyes widened as he listened to the man’s voice.

“thoji zenin? Is that yuf? I thouft I haf killed you”. Gojo spoke, and his words came out muffled through his gag.

He tried to move his body but was rendered incapable. “Let mhf goh!” His garbled words were unable to be understood by his captors.

“Ya know I’ve always hated ya,” Toji spoke as he slowly approached him with a smirk. He grabbed Satoru’s throat and squeezed it. Satoru flailed around, unable to breathe.

His face had turned blue-purplish and he was on the brink of passing out when Toji let go of his neck. Satoru gasped loudly and coughed. He glared at toji who just gave him a wink. “I was just playin’ with ya. The real pain hasn’t started yet.”

That was the most helpless gojo had felt in the entirety of his life.

The fake Suguru tsked, “Feeling miserable are we?” gojo grunted, “I foud never gif yu the saatishfation.” He garbled through his gag.

“By the end of this, you'll be crying and kissing my feet Toru.” Suguru chuckled.

Toji removed Satoru’s gag. He grabbed him by his hair and pulled him into a rough kiss, sticking his tongue into his mouth and dragging his teeth over his lip. Satoru struggled, trying to move away from toji but Toji’s firm grip on his hair made it hard for him to move.

Suguru approached from the side and dipped his tongue in his collarbone. He aggressively sucked the skin, leaving marks. His hands roamed all over Satoru's body and brushed over his clothed chest. All Satoru could do was wriggle helplessly and whine.

“You're liking this aren't ya? Dirty pervert.” Toji smirked as he squeezed Satoru’s clothed balls making him grunt.

“You're gonna rot in hell.” He spat on Toji’s face.

Toji’s face darkened as he wiped the spit off his cheek. “Yer awfully cocky, aren’t ya? It’s funny. I'm gonna give you a chance okay hon? And if ya fuck up yer dead.”

Gojo pursed his lips and promptly shut up. He would let them think he was going to be subservient and the moment one of them loses their guard he will activate his technique.

“Good boy.” Toji chuckled as he started tearing his clothes off. Gojo sucked in a sharp breath but stood still without any protest.

Suguru began his assault on Satoru’s chest while Toji roughly grabbed Satoru’s jaw and squeezed it until his mouth opened partially.

The second his jaw opened, Toji stuck two of his fingers in his mouth. “Suck,” he demanded, his eyes looking vicious as if daring Satoru to do something.

Satoru gulped and started sucking on Toji’s fingers. Toji shoved them even further making him gag, tears gathered in Satoru’s eyes and saliva ran down his chin.

Suguru’s hands were still swirling around Satoru’s nipples albeit more furiously.

Satoru tried to suppress his moans as his chest was ruthlessly played with. Suguru wickedly grinned as he heard Satoru moan. He leaned down and took his right nipple in his mouth. Satoru’s nipples were sensitive which made him squeak and wiggle. Suguru continued his assault until it bruised.

Satoru sucked on Toji’s fingers at a more comfortable pace, finding comfort in the action almost distracting him from Suguru’s abuse.

Toji’s other hand made its way to his cock. He gently started stroking Satoru, making him shudder. He increased his pace leaving Satoru a whimpering mess.

Toji removed his fingers from Satoru’s mouth and wiped them on his face. Satoru could feel Sugurus's hand on his thigh and shuddered. The touch was so familiar that yet made Satoru lurch. He doesn't want both of them to touch him and he tried to shake Suguru’s hand away but it was unsuccessful. “Relax Toru,” Suguru whispered in his ear, sending shivers down his spine.

Suguru's hands started to creep a little higher, moving behind and trailing his hands over the swell of his ass. He let out a pathetic groan as Suguru’s fingers slipped between his cheeks.

Satorus's body panicked at the intrusion. It was such an unfamiliar sensation that pained Satoru.

“I told you to relax Satoru,” Suguru whispered in his ear as he slowly started to rotate his fingers.

Satoru jumped as his bindings were undone and he was bent forward. Toji shoved his cock inside his mouth while Suguru had his fingers up Satoru’s ass.

“What a slut.” toji cooed, relishing the sight of Satoru, his free hand moved towards his hair and he yanked them, pulling Satoru closer which made Satoru gag on his cock.

“NoOOOO-M’not a slut mmf.” Satoru’s voice came out high-pitched and quite muffled as toji pushed his cock even further past his slack jaw.

Satoru gurgled around his dick, tears were streaming down his face and he struggled to breathe.

Satoru let out a desperate needy noise as he got stretched open by Suguru’s fingers. And he was forced to suck Toji’s cock nonetheless. It was a soothing gesture for Satoru as he could ignore Suguru’s finger against his prostate.

His cock twitched, hips bucking forward as much as they were able to in his restraints.

A familiar feeling of pleasure shot through him, he felt as if he was about to come. He doesn't want it but there was nothing he could do to control it. He tried to shout, cry out Suguru’s name to make him stop but his voice was muffled by Toji’s cock and all he could do was endure it.

Satoru comes, his orgasm rips through him knocking the breath out of his lungs and further making him gag on Toji’s cock. He spasmed and felt fatigued.

Drool ran down Satoru’s chin as his lips parted around Toji’s dick.

Tears gathered in his eyes as toji kept thrusting his hips, hitting the back of his throat.

“Oh, you cry so prettily.” Toji crooned as he amped up his face. Suguru pulled out his fingers and positioned his cock against Satoru’s entrance.

Satoru screamed around Toji’s cock, “PLEASE! Stop Suguru! NO!” his unintelligible words go unheard as Suguru enters.

Suguru placed his hands on Satoru’s hips as he slammed his dick repeatedly inside Satoru.

He made a wanton sound as Suguru’s cock pushed deep inside his ass, stretching his wider. “He’s taking you in well eh?” toji chuckled. Satoru choked on Toji’s cock but Toji didn't stop and continued to thrust inside him.

With a groan, Toji pulled his dick out and spurted cum on Satoru’s face. He scooped some of the cum out and shoved it inside his mouth.

Suguru increased the pace of his thrusts making Satoru’s body jerk. Satoru’s body felt so sensitive. “I can't!” he furiously shook his head and screamed.

“Please stop.” he whimpered, fat tears streaming down his face. Before he could beg again, his mouth was stuffed with his own torn t-shirt. He couldn't speak, It was hard for him to breathe.

Toji walked behind Satoru and stood next to Suguru, “Ya think he's ready to take both of us in?” Toji asked as he guided himself to Satoru’s hole.

Satoru cried out, letting out noises of protest. “Aww don't be scared hon.” Toji chuckled as he shoved his dick inside Satoru. Toji’s hands move to Satoru’s hair and tighten their grip on them.

Suguru’s hand trailed towards his chest again and begin to slowly massage Satoru’s chest and roll his thumb over a nipple. A scream ripped out of Satoru as the both of them pounded into his body greedily.

Satoru’s body went rigid and his back arched, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as the feeling of pleasure and pain engulfed him.

His mind was blank. He couldn't think about anything but the pleasure he was experiencing.

Satoru was vaguely aware of him crying in ecstasy. His body quivered in pleasure, his hole was thrust into over and over again. He drooled and moaned.

His body was a mess, fluids, his and others, leaking out of his body. He heard the men talk but he wasn't able to hear anything.

His body wrung out with pleasure. Satoru wasn't even able to hear the men come, all he could feel was the warm cum that filled up his ass. He could feel nothing but bliss and a feeling of relief that the whole ordeal was over.

Bad ending?

Suguru placed Satoru on the floor and left him lying there when they were done with him. Satoru was tired, he was so tired that he could feel his eyes shut and he fell asleep.

A few moments later a well-built blonde man, Nanami Kento, his colleague showed up to the place, he rushed to him and carried him inside his car with his muscular arms.

Good ending?

Suguru carried him in his arms and led him to their shared room, toji followed behind. He brought out a wet washcloth and cleaned Satoru.

“Did you have fun Toru?” Suguru asked, his eyes forming little crescents.

Satoru looked up at both of them and gave them a droopy smile. “I did,” he said, his eyes drooping. Suguru and Toji joined him on the bed and cuddled him.

“We should do this more you know,” Toji spoke. “What? role play?” Satoru mumbled.

“Naah it hurt me seeing Satoru like that,” Suguru muttered.

“It was fun tho?” toji retorted with a smirk. “Oh yes, seein' ya go crazy on our cocks was fun.” toji added, reminiscing about their escapades.

Satoru blushed and lightly slapped Toji’s chest, “Shut up.” “Aww is my baby Toru blushing?” Suguru cooed. “Stop making fun of me.” Satoru huffed.

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meguemii · 9 months

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Hardly Friends.

06. What it Could Have Been.

Pairings: Megumi x Reader, Nobara x Yuji (platonic)

Synopsis:

Word Count: 1.5k

Returning to your room hot and bothered you stripped yourself of your cold wet bathing suit. and changing into some more comfy clothes.

5 minutes later, Nobara walked into your shared room quietly rummaging through her stuff eventually glancing at you then doing a double take to look at your wet hair. “Did you and Megumi go swimming? Is THAT why you didn’t want Yuji and I coming back so soon!?” She erupted into laughter. Running over to shush her by putting a finger over her lips. “No. Well yes. SHUT UP!” You shouted. Still laughing at you “holy shit Y/N, did you guys fuck?”. Your face dropped and that was her hint, “Oh my god you did!” Shushing her again groaning “No! We were just getting along for once and I didn’t want either you you ruining the moment!” quickly explaining to her while leaving the more important half out. She didn’t need to know that.

“Well either way that’s good! Well actually maybe not either way. Might have been awkward as hell if you guys hooked up.” She said as she walked to her side of the room putting her shopping bags down and rummaging through her suit case most likely to get her own clothes. You stood there turned away from her view frowning, she was right. It would be awkward now, even though you guys didn’t hook up. Taking 10 steps forward and 100 steps backwards.

“Do you have my speaker?” Nobara asked snapping you out of your depressing thoughts, you turned to look at her with a half smile trying to cover up what you were previously thinking about. “Oh yeah, I was using it while I was swimming. I was gonna go have a bath to get rid of this chlorine out of my hair, can I borrow it again?” She hummed a yes in response. Quickly grabbing the speaker and your toiletries you made your way to the bathroom and started running hot water.

Looking in the full body mirror and hugging yourself for any sense of comfort. Trying to feel something other than embarrassed. Ding.. Ding..

Your phone going off twice, snapping out of your own world you picked up your phone to see who had messaged you. It was Yuta and Megumi. “Hey Y/N, sorry if that was weird, idk what came over me. Never meant for something like that to happen” frowning over the words he had sent, he didn’t mean for it to happen? Then redirecting your attention to Yuta’s message it read “really been missing you, can’t wait for you to come home. send a photo so i can remember you?😉” There was apart of you still itching for any sort of sexual attention.

Deciding to fill the void Megumi left, you took a provocative photo of yourself, although nothing showed it still showed everything. Opening your photos app to hit share you clicked the first contact that came up.

Smiling to yourself you set your phone down and listened to soft music as you relaxed in the bath. About 5 minutes had passed and your phone started buzzing. Quickly wiping your hand off you reached for your phone.

Gumi XD is calling…

Answer Decline

Why the fuck was he calling you? Hitting accept you heard heaving breathing “Y/-N, did you mean to send that to me?” Megumi’s voice was low and cracked when he said your name. Send what? What did you send?! Internal panic quickly set it. “What?” you said hoping to god you didn’t send what you thought you did. Opening yours and Megumi’s messages immediately being met with the photo you had meant to send to Yuta, you had actually sent it to Megumi. “holy shit holy shit holy shit. I am SO sorry!!” you screeched in pure horror and embarrassment.

A minute had passed and a shaky breath came through the phones speaker. “..Megumi?”saying his name quietly but more questioningly. “yes angel?” ANGEL?! Your stomach did a backflip and all you could feel was your whole body fluttering.

What did you do? Hang up. You hung the phone up. What the fuck. No shot that just happened. Your phone dinged again, horrified to check what the notification was you mustered up all the courage you had left and saw it was only Nobara. “Are you okay in there?” she texted. Quickly typing a “yeah i just saw a spider, everything’s good.” Sinking down into the water, hoping you’d drown.

Maybe an hour had passed only deciding to get out when you started turning pruney . Getting out of the tub, shivering once met with the cold air. That and the fact that you had humiliated yourself twice tonight. Well this one was humiliating at least. Getting dressed back into the clothes you were previously wearing you took a good long look at yourself in the mirror once again and puffing out your chest in false confidence only deflating in shame seconds later with a sad huff.

You returned to the bedroom and saw Nobara laying on her bed on her phone. Ignoring your own bed you crawled up right beside her and sighed. She glanced at you and then went back to her phone. Sighing again a bit heavier this time she continued to ignore you. This process happened multiple times before you looked up at her dramatically “you ass. you’re supposed to ask what’s wrong! I literally crawled into your bed and cuddled up to you and started sighing dramatically!” now pouting at her. Nobara put her phone down and looked to you with a dead expression. “oh my dearest best friend, what is the matter? did something happen?” She asked sarcastically. “Yep that’s what I thought. Anyways, something did happen. And I hope my next breath is my last.” throwing your arms in the air flailing them around, resulting in an amused snort from the girl.

“Anyways so, something did happen..” you paused waiting for her to respond. “Well obviously?” she flatly said with a playfully eye roll. Scoffing in response and continuing your story. Basically recapping her on the pool story.

You guys were now sitting criss cross on the bed with face masks on. “Y/N, from the bottom of my heart, i’m so sorry for cock blocking.” She said as she crossed her heart with her hand making you laugh.

Calming down you continued your story “No but Nobara this is where it gets bad.” she looked at you waiting for the rest. “So Yuta messaged me saying he missed me and asked for a picture, right? okay. So I took a provocative picture and went into the photo app to send it to him and instead of clicking Yuta’s contact.” you paused taking a deep breath to catch it. “I ACCIDENTALLY SENT IT TO MEGUMI.” Nobara screeched “No you didn’t!”. You let out a cry “I DID. BUT GET THIS. He called me. Asking if it was meant for him but he said it in a low shaky voice. then he said my name but his voice cracked.” Nobara let out a “ouuu girlll” for the dramatic effect. “Okay now get this, I started apologizing like crazy and it was silent so I said “Megumi..?” AND HE SAID “yes angel?” WHICH THEN THE ONLY LOGICAL THING TO DO WAS HANG UP!” burying your face into your hands.

“Y/N.. this could either be so bad or so good. You have to admit Megumi is pretty hot” she smirked and you playfully hit her. “Yeah but did you forget he messaged me he never meant for anything at the pool to happen? Maybe he’s super uncomfortable now!” Nobara stopped you and countered with a comment that made your face heat up bright red, even with a cooling face mask. “Only reason he’d be uncomfortable right now is because you probably gave him a raging hard on.” earning another punch to her shoulder which she laughed off.

“Nobara I’m serious, this is so bad! I have to see him everyday for the next two weeks!” you cried elongating the word ‘bad’. Her demeanour changed and she gave you a soft reassuring smile, “Y/N, everything is going to be okay. I swear.”

That was that for the rest of the night, you fell asleep in Nobara’s bed. The only problem is was that you didn’t fall asleep. Nobara had fallen asleep so long ago, it felt like ages. Leaving you wide awake staring at the ceiling, you had no idea what time it was. Nothing or no one to keep you company besides your thoughts that you desperately needed to figure out.

Did Megumi really not mean anything he did? If so why would he call you like that, the shaky breathes seemed so.. sensual. Now with a clear mind you could only think about how they made you feel. Like you needed him. Like you wanted to be there in person to hear those shaky breathes.

You didn’t know what changed but suddenly you were enamoured with Megumi, head spinning at the thought of him. But doubts still flooded your mind. This is the first time he’d ever acted like that. First time he’s acted like that with you at least. All you knew was that you wanted more.

You wanted to know what could have happened, where it would have led. You needed to know. You needed to know what it would have felt like to let him continue what he started. To feel more of him on a deeper and even more of an intimate level.

Megumi Fushiguro what are you doing to me?

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feeding my girls Megumi x Y/N content is my favourite thing :3 GUYS WHAT DO WE THINK??? ARE WE ROCKING WITH MEGUMI’S ANTICS? what was he doing on the other side of the phone?🧐 OKAY MIGHT PUMP OUT ANOTJER CHAPTER RN LOVE YOU GUYS!!

Tag list is open if interested!

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #megumi fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x yn #megumi x reader #megumi is getting spicy #megumi implied smut

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enchantingseer · 1 month

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'There is a veil of body over our soul if unleashed what it would be ? a shadow, a light, a love or a night..what makes you, a life? when you are not called after a thought and an idea, but seen and felt..by another heart..unlike the way you kept feeling all these times, there is a difference of love that reflects as mine but not as me..there is a lie behind the truth I am'

______________________________________________________________

Know Yourself by Picking an Image that lasts when you close your eyes and you open it all you could go for it ;

Note : This is an general reading not everything could resonate but there is always a word with meanings left in between only to be read by you differently

Have faith & Chose

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Image 1 :

Vulnerability is webbed by the subtle nuances of resilience you rely on the times, when you know, you know speaking would not help, asking would not answer, and doing would not fix who you are, you have fatale despair where you have no faith to know there is one where you did not hope it be, brutal broke are not your thing but they sound exact when somebody screams, you can sense the agony, the harsh rubs of the day to day noir around..drama goes and goes on without the idea of being an subject in it..

Signs : Puffy Eyes, Soft Hair, Sensitive Ears, Great Visions, Pisces, Aquarius, Unrequited, Second Lead, Female Fatale, Orange Red, 777

Message : 'You see the things in your head only to see it your way, once you are out it is an different reality'

______________________________________________________________

Image 2 :

Been through the dark this much now that I have been the ashes of ground where people do not seen the burnt before expecting me to flame their desires, world can be too much at times that putting it down becomes the only choice even if it stands near and dear to you for some reason who have been doing and being more then enough giving up seems like a pill of freedom and vividness to attain out of their routinely set auto-piloted expectations around. you are everything you want and need to be still you crave to be nothing sometimes, like a magic happening without a trick or technique effortless and etiquette.

Signs : Red Roses, Taylor Swift and Lana del rey mixed vibes, fusion culture, hippies style, breathless and sighing habits, or maybe smoking at times ( Quit it Honey ) wavy and messy hair, cheeky smile

Message : 'What you long in, is longing for you too..learn to let it come after a few steps of walks running a mile to see what went down the hill was only you'

______________________________________________________________

Image 3 :

Everything smells nice, isn't so only if the world was exposed to sunlight I would not needed to held wars of battles and fights at the darkest nights of my life, feeling tired enough to mourn over the memory and exhausted enough to not shed any sweats at the sake of blood that flows from heart and mind, I bleed in nightmares, crawling and shouting in the void ceasing all under the facades of my different smiles, only to crack break at the hands of divine and the dark to enlighten the journey I have embarked so far.

Signs : Project, Healing Journey, Spiritual Growth, Subtle Traumas, Triggered by loudness and control freak, birthdays, parties, introvert

Message : 'Take your time, after all as an life you will get the space well aligned to keep moving upward and high'

______________________________________________________________

Lately I have been feeling a little worth issues is when I thought things being alone it is not about others where I find myself it is within me for which others can be one of a way to it - S

Hope today's reading served well to your resonance of energies !

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anon-whos-so-sorry · 1 month

Text

❕❔ [RECORDING TWO]

They stepped away from the microphone when they finished their message. As soon as they did so: someone came running out of the shadows. There was no time to scan his appearance as he grabbed the intercom microphone. With panted breath, he spoke.

“Hi, Founder!” They shouted despite speaking into a microphone and their voice already echoing. They stepped back and decided to let the boy do his job. The spirit spoke for a little bit more before slamming his hands on the table. Grabbing the microphone and sitting on the table. “What did you do to Crikin? 8Ball really needs to know!”

He put up a finger as he looked up at the glowing sign, the sign still pulsing with a red glow as he wrapped things up. “Also! WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO WITH THE TECH CREW?? Please! I’ve been in the void since day one: I just want to see them again!” He quickly ended the recording and went to slam the red button but as soon as he clicked the button. The light went out and an error effect played throughout the void.

He gritted his teeth and got off of the desk, placing the microphone back down with a fist as he looked at Interrobang. “What?” He spat. They put their hands up in surrender. The boy pulled up a sign with two red exclamation marks painted on it and put it in front of his face as he spoke. “Hmmm. I haven’t seen you around in the void before. What’s your name?” They were about to speak up before the spirit rudely interrupted them.

“Oh wait! Lemme guess!” He hummed as he started floating around them. Lifting arms and getting a good look at their face before noticing a small pin on their vest. “Ooh! I got one! Screaming Question?”

What.

It sounded more like a title rather than a name. They blinked, taken aback by the sudden name suggestion. They shook their head slowly, trying to process the situation. "No, that's not... my name," they replied, their voice carrying a mix of confusion and amusement. "But you can call me… Interrobang?"

The spirit's eyes widened in surprise, his floating form hovering closer. "Interrobang? That's... different." He mused, scratching his translucent chin. "Okay, Interrobang it is!" He declared with a grin, seemingly pleased with the new moniker. "So, what brings you to the void? Looking for answers, adventure, or just passing through?"

Interrobang considered the question for a moment before responding, "A bit of everything, I suppose. I woke up here with no memory of how I got here or who I am. Now I'm just trying to figure it out."

The spirit nodded sympathetically, a couple of small wisps that floated around him bobbing up and down. "Ah, the classic case of void amnesia," he remarked knowingly. "Well, you're not alone in that regard. Some folks around here trying to piece together their pasts." He floated back a bit, giving Interrobang some space. "If you ever need help navigating the void or just someone to chat with, I'm your guy. Name's Exclamation, by the way."

Interrobang offered a grateful smile. "Nice to meet you, Exclamation. Thanks for the offer. I might take you up on that."

As they exchanged pleasantries, the specter’s gaze fell upon the cassette player Interrobang held, and recognition sparked in his eyes. "Hey, that's mine!" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with urgency as he reached out towards it.

Interrobang instinctively pulled the cassette player closer, a defensive stance creeping into their posture. "Yours?" they questioned, their tone wary. "How do you know it's yours?"

Exclamation’s features contorted into a mixture of frustration and desperation as he put down the sign. "I recognize it! It's got my sign-off on it!" he explained, his incorporeal form flickering with agitation. "I've been looking for it everywhere. It's important to me!"

Interrobang's grip tightened on the cassette player, a hint of skepticism coloring their expression. "I found it lying around here. There were no names on it," they countered, unwilling to relinquish the object without more convincing evidence.

Exclamation’s translucent form seemed to quiver with frustration. "Look, I know it's mine! I must have dropped it while going back!" he pleaded, desperation seeping into his voice. "Please, I need it back!!"

Tensions escalated as Interrobang hesitated, torn between empathy for Exclamation’s plight and their own need to hold onto the only tangible clue they had about this place. But before they could make a decision, Exclamation lunged forward, his ghostly form attempting to wrest the cassette player from Interrobang's grasp.

Reacting instinctively, Interrobang dodged Exclamation’s ethereal grasp, their movements swift and fluid. A brief scuffle ensued, with Exclamation’s incorporeal form phasing through Interrobang's attempts to block him.

Amid the chaos, a sudden realization struck Interrobang—they didn't need to fight over the cassette player. With a decisive motion, they tossed the device towards Exclamation, who caught it with a surprised expression. The headphones snapped out of its slot as the tape started playing again. Exclamation put a finger up as he immediately paid attention.

“Huh, that went faster than I thought it would. I'm sure I know exactly where that is. Thank you, Sincerely.”

Exclamation’s eyes widened as he looked up at Interrobang. And when that recording fizzled out: Voices in the void got louder, louder, and louder. People(?) immediately came forth from the shadows.

A cat with a cane, a blank slate with an iron maiden shut around their head, a goat.. sheep thing? A floating eye robot, a marionette, a mask, a rat, a being of the stars, an egg who looks ready to kill, a glowing heart, a ticking fuse, someone that looked nearly human if it weren’t for its ears and tail, even someone who looked eerily similar to the kid who was getting a hug from before.

They all seemed to look past Interrobang and they all looked at each other. A lovely anon narrowed their sets of eyes and crossed their arms. “Now, why would they do that?”

The cat mumbled no under his breath like a mantra. The being of the stars cracks their knuckles as the Metalhead slung a backpack over their shoulders. Their glasses looked at Exclamation and tilted to the side: wanting to talk to him.

Exclamation turned their tape back over to see a question mark and exclamation point burned into it. He glared at Interrobang as he rose to his feet and followed the Iron Maiden. The rest of the anons went to discuss amongst themselves. Leaving Interrobang by themselves.

“Well. That’s one way to make a splash into the void.” They mumbled to themselves as their tail (wait they had a tail now?) uncomfortably flicked against the ink dripping from their face.

“Now. We’re going to have some fun around here.”

#❕❔#❕❔ recordings #❕❔ lore #(Mostly) EVERYONE IS HERE #SMASH BROS FANFAIR!!!#My writing #BRO THIS CAUSED MY TUMBLR TO SIGN ME OUT WHEN I WAS TRYING TO POST IT #deep anon lore #deepanonlore #anoncinematicuniverse #anon cinematic universe #LINKED VIDEO IS NOT MINE BTW!! BELONGS TO LILMANGOM!!

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ladyveronikawrites · 2 months

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LOST IN THE CONCRETE JUNGLE CHAPTER SIX Bad Omens x Star Wars Pairing: Zebastian (Noah Sebastian) x F!Reader

CW: ⚠️‼️THIS CHAPTER TURNS DARK- PLEASE USE YOUR DESCRECTION WHEN READING‼️⚠️ drugging, graphic descripions of murder, post murder fuck, anal sex (male receiving), blood, blood kink

Summary: You are the perfect senator's daughter- next in line to become his aide to learn everything about the Galactic Senate. But on your 21st birthday, your perfect life changes forever when the mysterious masked man you met at the nightclub was not who you thought he was. A/N: POV switching from second to first occurs often in the story. Shout out to my amazing beta team @mysticdoodlez, @roley-poley-foley, and @nerdraging4point0 your insight and cheerleading has been invaluable. Word Count:2k Crossposted: Wattpad & A03 Cast list

Master list

May the Force be with you✨

“Leave me alone!”

You sprint out of the warehouse. It’s all too much. You gasp for air as your legs give out. You cry out at the pain searing through your legs. Your head slumps into your hands as uncontrollable heartbreak consumes you. Your chest heaves against the tops of your knees.

A warm hand on your back startles you. “Go away!” You try to push the body away but they step back from your grasp. When your blurry vision clears, a large figure crouches beside you.

Zebastian.

You scramble to your feet and stumble aimlessly into the dark alley. You can’t see what’s in front of you but it doesn’t bother you. You just need to get away. You stagger further into the alley until your body crashes into something cold and hard. A concrete wall halts your path of despair. You slump back into the wall for stability as its rough texture somehow grounds you.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Zebastian’s voice is low as if he is trying to soothe a scared animal that escaped the Coruscant Zoo. Footsteps crunch against gravel.

“Liar,” you bite out. His footsteps stop.

“I mean you no harm. Not anymore.” Zebastian puts his hands up in defense. “I needed answers.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I needed to know why my father was murdered…” He trails off. He clears his throat. “I’m sure you need answers to…” His voice is soft and sincere.

“I don’t need answers, I need a distraction.” You cut Zebastian off. “I don't want to think right now. I don’t want to think about my father and especially you.”

You bite out the last word and it strikes Zebastian just as you intended. You don’t know what Zebastian wants. One minute he’s trying to hurt you then he’s trying to help you. It’s all too much.

“I can help you with your distraction.” Zebastian makes one step closer to you. Even in the dim light, you can see his jaw clench. His face still surprises you every time you see him without his mask on. He’s strikingly handsome.

“You swaying in tempo with the music.” Your body freezes as he takes another step.

“Bodies pressed against without a care in the world.” You suck in a breath as he closes the distance between you. He slams both of his hands on the wall; caging you in.

“The dancefloor beckons,” Zebstian’s hot breath against your ear sends a shiver down your spine.

You should push him away.

Should decline his invitation.

But you don’t.

The beat consumes you and takes your racing thoughts with it. Despite the dense air and body heat, you can finally breathe. You sink deeper into the bliss as the tempo picks up. Closing your eyes and raising your arms into the air you release all abandon into the void. You are safe. The bodies pressing against you on the dancefloor don’t care who you are. They don’t ask questions. They just want to feel the freedom of music just like you.

A warm arm wraps around your waist followed by a cool metal one. Nash. The memories of him in the alley flood your mind. His metal hand holding you still so Revan can violate you. You should run, but his earthy scent and body heat flood your system making your head spin.

His cybernetic arm pulls you closer to his chest holding you to him as his other hand roams the side of your body. Through the soft fabric of your dress, you can feel the heat emanating from his fingertips. You roll your head back against his firm chest, your body swaying to the beat.

You could get lost here in the Concrete Jungle.

Without warning, Nash grips your wrist with his metal hand and pulls you off the dancefloor. You try to protest but he can’t hear you against the loud music. His hand grips you tighter as you stumble through the crowd. Nash leads you through a dark hallway and up a flight of stairs.

“Where are you taking me?” You ask between pants. He doesn’t answer you, instead abruptly opens a door and pushes you inside. “What the-” you stagger into the room as Nash slams the door shut leaving you in the room.

When you turn from the door you lock eyes with Zebastian. Your breath leaves your lungs as your mouth drops open. He is lounging in a leather chair behind his desk. His feet are propped up on the desk and crossed at the ankles. The top few buttons of his black shirt are popped up and the sleeves are rolled up exposing his tattooed arms, chest, and neck. His hair is slicked back into a small bun with no mask in sight. He looks so different; comfortable, and confident.

“What’s going on? Why am I here?” Your voice comes out more breathy than you would like.

“So many questions,” Zebastian says lowly. “Please sit down.” He gestures to the leather couch. You don’t know why you comply, but you go to the couch.

“It seems like your father has sent his pet to come get you.” Zebastian takes a sip of what looks like wine. Your brows knit together in confusion.

“Pet?” You echo.

Zebastian just chuckles. “Come over here.” Zebastian gestures to the window behind him but you hesitate. He lets out a breath. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

This time you believe him. You make your way to the window behind his desk, tugging at the hem of your dress subconsciously. His intense gaze makes your stomach tie up in knots. Your eyes go wide when you see Mikkah.

“W-what’s he doing here?” You stammer.

Zebastian takes a sip of his wine. “Your father’s dirty work.” Zebastian’s says nonchalantly. “He’s here to come get you.” Your mouth falls open again as your thoughts spiral out of control.

“Do you want to go home?” Zebastian’s unusual question rips you from your thoughts.

“I can’t go home, not after what my father did to me…what Mikkah did to me.” You watch as Mikkah is being dragged down by a group of men.

“Mikkah? What did Mikkah do to you?” Zebastian asks in a low husky tone.

“I-I- can’t say.” That’s all you can muster as you pull yourself away from the chaos.

“Did Mikkah hurt you?” Zebastian says through clenched teeth.

You don’t have the words or the courage to admit what happened to you. You try to turn away from Zebastian, from the embarrassment and shame about to bubble and overflow; but a hand grabs your wrist, freezing you in place. His hold on you is surprisingly gentle but a spark manages to cut through you when you look up at him.

“Stay,” Zebastian says softly. “I will not hurt you and neither will he.”

Lost in your spiraling thoughts you did not hear the door open. When you follow Zebastian’s gaze you find Revan in the doorway. You pull out of Zebastian’s grasp and take a few steps back until you hit the wall. The memories of that night in the alley flash into your mind. Your heartbeat quickens and your shoulders tense.

“You,” You breathe out staring at Revan. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears now.

“He will not hurt you, not ever again.” Zebastian turns to you. “He only did that to you because I asked him to. It was the only way.”

Zebastian buttons up his shirt and grabs his coat and mask from his desk. He makes his way to Revan as he puts on the mask, but stops and turns to you again.

“Go with him, now.” Zebastian’s eyes turn dark and menacing.

You will never understand how quickly he can change from quiet and comforting to stern and dangerous. Before you can probe more, Zebastian storms out the door.

“Would you like a drink before we go?” Revan smiles softly.

When you hesitate he adds, “It’s not tampered with. It’s from Zebastian’s personal stash.” Revan gestures to the bar in the corner of the room.

“I’ll even let you have the expensive wine if you’d like.”

You watch as Revan pours himself a glass of whiskey. It couldn’t hurt to calm the nerves. Could it? You nod your head and Revan pours you a drink. You close your eyes and knock it back quickly. The warm liquid burns the back of your throat making your eyes water but it settles your nerves almost instantly. Revan reaches out his hand for you to take. Reluctantly, you take it.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispers, gripping your hand tighter. Your brows knit together in confusion, then all at once your vision blurs, and your legs give out.

I slowly descend the dimly lit concrete spiral staircase leading to the basement of the nightclub. Lights flicker on with each step I make. I revel in the sound of slapped skin and grunts of pain. Mikkah should have never stepped his polished boots in my territory.

Mikkah’s screams get louder as I near the bottom of the steps. The Senator is going to pay for meddling in a place he doesn’t belong.

Mikkah is in the center of the room tied to a chair as Nash and Jax flank him. Jax pours water over the hood on Mikkah’s head while Nash lands punishing blows to his bare chest and side with his metal arm. When they hear my approach, Nash goes to perch on an Imperial crate against the wall while Jax brings over the cart of knives.

This is going to be fun. My heartbeat pounds in my chest as I rip off the hood. Mikkah’s eyes go wide and he tugs against his restraints, spurting out muffled pleas through his cloth gag.

I glance over Mikkah’s surprisingly toned chest now marred with red and purpling splotches. He is bigger than I imagined. I watch as his shoulders tense to my gaze. He could have easily held her down with his weight alone.

Anger flashes through me and I can’t stop myself from smashing my fist into his ribs. His ribs crunch against the impact; sending Mikkah screaming and gasping for air.

I turn and snatch a knife from the cart. The blade glints in the low light as I tower over him. I cut the gag and yank it from his mouth. Before Mikkah can spout a syllable I knick his collarbone with the blade. He winces as blood starts to bead at the incision.

“What are you doing here?” I stalk around him watching his shallow breathing. His jaw clenches shut and he glares at me.

“Loth-cat got your tongue?” I chuckle to myself.

I get right up in Mikkah’s face and press the tip of the blade onto the delicate skin of his neck. Mikkah leans his head back as I press the blade harder. Mikkah spits in my face. It takes every ounce of willpower not to slit his throat right then and there.

In one swift motion, I slice off his nipple. Mikkah howls in pain and I dig the tip of the knife in the other nipple.

“Don’t make me ask again.”

“T-the senator sent me-.” Mikkah sputters out between shallow breaths. I press deeper. “To get his daughter.”

Mikkah sighs when I remove the knife. Blood is starting to drip down his torso. Mikkah’s eyes gloss over as adrenaline sets in.

“Was she everything you hoped for?” I drag the blade up his torso collecting his blood.

“W-what?” Mikkah stammers.

I plunge the blade into the wound. “The senator’s daughter.” I clamp down on his shoulder with my free hand and twist the blade inside the wound. Mikkah shrieks in agony. “Was her pussy that good?” I step back, examining my handiwork leaving the blade in his body as he processes the pain and the question.

“Y-yes,” Mikkah chokes out.

Before he can finish the word, I yank the blade from his chest and slice his throat.

Blood gushes everywhere, spattering my clothes. This only makes my cock strain harder against my pants.

Fuck.

The light drains from Mikkah’s eyes as his head slumps over. Adrenaline and arousal course through my veins.

The bloody knife slips from my hand as my head begins to clear. I hear footsteps nearby. Jax is getting to work cleaning up the body.

A body shuffles in the corner of my vision. Nash. His eyes are full of primal lust. He loves blood as much as I do. He takes a swig from the flask he keeps in his jacket pocket before loosening his belt.

Our post-murder fuck.

Nash has his boxers and pants around his ankles in an instant. He leans over an Imperial crate for leverage. Fuck the Empire. I unzip my pants and free my hard cock from its confines. Spitting on my hand to add more lubrication to the blood already there, my core ignites with every stroke from my hand.

Without warning, I plunge my throbbing cock into his ass. Nash grunts at the invasion. I grip his hips and drill into him further.

“Fuuuuuck, Zeb,” Nash groans as his walls adjust.

I slowly withdraw from him until it's just the tip. He whimpers with anticipation and it makes my heart skip a beat. I dig my nails deep into his hips, scratching his skin. He pushes against me practically begging for more. I thrust into him without mercy. Clenching my teeth, I fuck him through my orgasm until cum has nowhere else to go but down his thigh. When I pull away from him Nash dutifully drops to his knees to lick and clean my softening cock.

Jax’s monotone voice cuts through the haze of my mind. “It’s finished.” After I’ve adjusted my clothes, I turn to find the basement completely free of any evidence a murder occurred.

“I need a drink,” I say dryly.

tysm for reading❤️🗡️

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wisteria-cherry · 9 months

Text

forty days and forty nights (day nine!)

(woahh day nine look at us go!!)

(read them all here!)

the next day at work, which was a saturday, you found yourself especially looking forward to bakugo’s appearance. you felt like you’d become friends with him— real, actual friends— after going to the party with him and kirishima. it was incredibly exciting.

you didn’t have many friends. it’s not like you minded; you liked being able to make your own plans and have time to yourself. but you were always accepting of new friends, particularly those that were your age— most of your current friends (more like close acquaintances) were twice as old as you, maybe even three or four times. so when you got home last night from the party, you were positively glowing, a rush of excitement washing over you (it helped that all of your new friends seemed like the type who were incredibly popular in high school; the kind of people everyone wanted to be around. and pro heroes. that helped too.) mina had actually texted you, asking you to hang out the following wednesday, which you happily agreed to.

you were snapped out of your thoughts by the familiar chime of the sweet little bells that announced the arrival of a customer. bakugo was grumbling, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he entered.

“are you doing alright?” you asked, already ringing him up.

“just fuckin’ exhausted.” he muttered. “make it a large today.”

“okay.” you hum, voiding the transaction and finding it the tiniest bit irksome that the one day you don’t ask for his order is the one day he changes it. you quickly brushed the feeling away. what a dumb thing to be irked by. “go ahead and sit down, it’ll be right out.” bakugo grunted an annoyed “don’t tell me what to do”, but obliged.

“is it from the party last night?” you ask as you hand him his coffee, which he promptly takes a drink from.

“yeah. those fuckers wouldn’t shut up in the group chat after it was over.” bakugo tched.

“ah, they must have kept you up, then.” you said sympathetically.

“no shit.”

“hey, speaking of, is mina a pro hero, too?”

“yeah.”

“what’s hero hero name? and her quirk?” you pressed.

“her quirk’s acid, and her hero name’s pinky.” he answered somewhat reluctantly.

“so do you call all your friends by their hero names?” you immediately regretted asking. after all, bakugo called kirishima shitty hair.

“hell no.” bakugo scoffed. “i called her pinky in high school and she made it her damn hero name after her first pick was rejected.”

“what was her first pick?” you ask curiously.

“alien queen or some dumb shit like that.”

“was dynamight your first pick?”

“no. they rejected my first two.” bakugo scowled, recalling the memory darkly.

“what were they?”

“lord explosion murder and king explosion murder.” you stared at him, dumbfounded.

it sounds exactly like your current one!! you wanted to scream, but you were too busy holding in your laughter.

“if you laugh, i’ll kill you.” bakugo hissed.

“i’m— i’m not laughing.” you managed to say between gasps, holding your hand to your mouth to block any sounds from coming out.

“i can see your shoulders shaking!” bakugo shouted.

“they’re not!” you didn’t even try to make your lie sound convincing.

“yes they are!”

“okay, okay, changing the subject now,” you snickered. “where did you go to high school?”

“hah?” bakugo seemed almost offended that you didn’t know what high school he went to. “ua. the best hero school.”

“i went to middle school with someone who went there, i think.” you mused airily. bakugo narrowed his eyes.

“who?”

“his name was monoma. neito monoma?” you guessed, not quite knowing his full name. bakugo immediately looked irked.

“that asshole…” he seethed.

“yeah, he had an ego to him.” you reminisced. “but there was this girl who always managed to subdue him.”

“they were annoying as fuck. they were in class b.” he spat.

“were you in class b?”

“hell no!” bakugo seemed offended at this also. “i was in class a. the best.”

“ahh, right.” you nodded as though this were obvious from the start.

“shut up.” bakugo grumbled, taking another sip of his coffee.

“so how was work?” you decide to change the subject. you were having to do this an awful lot today, you noticed. he seemed especially grumpy.

“tiring as shit.” he tched.

“did you get any villains?” you smiled. you figured that if he was feeling down, an ego boost would make him feel better. he looked up from his coffee. you had him hooked.

“…yeah.” he answered. “yeah, i did.”

“how many?” now he grinned that vicious grin of his that could, frankly, be borderline sadistic.

“twelve. beat their asses. they didn’t even stand a chance.” he boasted.

“obviously.” you smiled, leaning against the counter, “because you’re the number one hero.”

“you’re damn right i am.” bakugo smirked. “one of ‘em tried to flee like a little bitch when he found out i was gonna beat his ass.”

“did he really?” you laugh. “you’ve got quite the reputation, then.”

“damn right i do.” you found yourself smiling as bakugo answered. sure, his ego was more blown up than the villains he’d encountered today, but you were happy he was at least feeling better. “i’m number one, ain’t i?”

“that you are.” you confirm. bakugo downed the rest of his coffee.

“yeah, well, i’ve gotta go.” he stood up. he narrowed his eyes and looked away, scowling. “thanks for the coffee, i guess.”

ah, he thanked you.

“of— of course.” you stammer, not expecting him to actually thank you but recovering quickly nonetheless.

“yeah, whatever.” bakugo turned to leave, then looked back at you briefly. he didn’t say a word, but you smiled and waved. he scoffed, looking annoyed. but he waved back, and you could see the barest trace of a smile tugging at his lips.

“are you doing alright?”

“just fuckin’ exhausted.”

<- previous next->

(feel free to comment + leave ur thoughts :)

tags: @k0z3me @cherryblossomclarity

#bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugou #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #katsuki bakugo oneshot #mha #bnha oneshots #coffee shop au #pro hero bakugo x reader #bakugo slow burn

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meetje-rotyourbrainhere · 3 months

Text

My take on sonic prime season 3:

sonic prime fanfiction rewrite

Warning: im not naturally english so please dont mind my weird senteces and wrong grammer!

After sonic sacreficed himself he quickly went downhill. The chaos council betrayed them and got sent to the dark pit in the void. Nine gives sonic a communicator and they hug goodbye. The Roses help sonic and shadow to get back to greenhill. After the ship gets damaged shadow picks up sonic (bridal style ❤️) to get him to the gate. After sonic flirts with shadow on the verge of death he faints. Shadow holds sonic even tighter and makes 3 sonic booms. Shadow and sonic get though the portal and are back in green hill. (the moment they enter is just when the crew got blasted away from the prism. They fall to the ground and see shadow crash in holding sonic protecting him from the fall into the ground.) Shadow and sonic Come out of the paradoxprism and crash into the ground. The crew stands up and look confused at shadow but then realize that sonic is dying. They quickly run towards them and help shadow up. Shadow asks if it worked but then he sees sonic is still dying and runs towards him and shouts his name. Eggman stops with pulling the paradoxprism and looks at the scene. Shadow and the crew are trying everything to keep him alive but then he breathes his last breath out. Shadow is in disbelief and the crew cries. Sonic slowy sparkles away but then the paradoxprism shoots a energy blast at sonic. Sonic is rising up while the blast is surrounding him with Light (in the colors of the prism) and gets resurected. (how that happens is kinda like: he rises up and his arms and legs get pushed down as if he reclames his soul. Hope i explained it good 😅) Sonic falls to the ground but before he touches it shadow catches him. He puts sonic down and hugs him and says:" Dont ever do that to me again please!" Sonic hugs him back and responds:" Don't worry, i would't dare." Shadow frees sonic from his hug. Sonic sees his friends and stands up and runs towards them with tears in his eyes. The crew is confused but accepts the grouphug. The groupshug is interrupted by eggman who attacks them. Sonic nods to shadow and he nods back. Together they defeat his robot in no time and the crew is even more confused. Rouge asks:" Okay, what the hell happended between you 2?!" Sonic answers:" I promise i explain everything later but can i please sleep for a whole week first? Sonic faints of exhaustion and shadow picks him up (bridal style ❤️.... Again) and says:" Il bring him home." Shadow leaves and the crew is left flabbergasted. Shadow puts sonic is his big hammock and tucks him in but then he feels a hand around his arm and sonic pulls shadow in the hammock and says:" Stay, please." Shadow gives in and joins him in the hammock. A couple of 10 minutes later rouge and tails enter and see the scene. Tails is really shocked and rouge is like: OMG omg omg SO cute expression. Tails tries to wake them up but rouge takes his arm and shakes her head. Tails gets the message and leaves them alone. A couple days later they wake up and sonic checks the time and realizes they slept for days. (like 2 or somth) Sonic and shadow go to the crew who are chilling at the palmtree. Sonic and shadow explain everything and the next shot you see is the reaction of the crew who are flabbergasted. (again 😜) The next thing what happens is the communicator going off and we hear nine saying:" Sonic, we are all at your gate could you open it?" Sonic sprints to the paradoxprism and takes some power to open a portal. All his friends enter his world and sonic says:"Hey guys! Let me show you my friends and my world!" Rebel en knux let out a tear because they are back in greenhill. Everyone arrives at the palmtree and sonic introduces them all.

The episode ends with them hanging out and having a beach party. (BTW, sonadow is canon)

End.

And how is that for a finale? I decided to not be this the modern sonic crew because i want this to be a seperate universe. And now since this is a seperate universe they just cross over from time to time . And with all the flirttension between sonic and shadow i made them canon in my universe.

thanks for reading my take on sonic prime season 3 finale <3

feel free to make art if you want with my ideas but please ask first so i can see it :D

Reposting now allowed but no stealing please, let's be nice and respect each other ideas

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic prime #sonadow #sonadow prime #sonic prime season 3 #fanfic #fanfiction #sonic prime fanfiction #sonic fanfiction #sonic au

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wheredafandomat · 1 year

Text

Hired Gun

Bodyguard! Loki x y/n Stark reader

18+ | TW! ATTEMPTED/SA, drugs, alcohol, Brock Rumlow, spiked drink. Please do not read if any of these things may be triggering

Part 5 Part 6

“You’re so pretty, you know that?” Rumlow grinned, twirling a piece of your hair between his fingers as he looked into your eyes. You reciprocated his coy smile, biting your lip as you noticed his gaze dip down to them.

“Thank you.” You answered, bringing your glass to your lips to take another sip before realising it was empty.

“You, pretty girl, can go wait for me on the dancefloor, I’ll bring you another drink.” He offered, gesturing you to the other people who were now dancing to more livelier music.

“Sure.” You answered before turning and making your way to where he said, aware of his eyes on you as you focused on not trying to fall, noticing that you were feeling a little tipsy. Rumlow watched you walk away, ensuring your back was turned to him before he ordered your drink. He looked at you again, noticing you occupied as you spoke to someone before he glanced around the room, no one was looking at him. He quickly took the small baggie out of his pocket before emptying the contents of it into your drink and moving the glass around a little allowing the sloshing of the liquid to dissolve the powdered substance before making his way to you.

“Here you go.” He spoke in your ear, coming up to you from behind as he handed you your drink.

“Thank you.” You answered, bringing the glass to your lips before taking a sip. “I see I’m drinking alone.” You remarked, noticing that he hadn’t brought a drink for himself.

“I’m trying to pace myself.” He chuckled before you did the same, taking another sip of your own drink.

“Well, are we dancing or what?” You asked, swaying your hips slightly.

“After you finish your drink.” He smiled.

“Deal” you agreed, downing the rest of your drink “now we dance.”

He was everywhere. You danced to the rhythm of the music, Rumlows hands running up and down your body, your arms, through your hair as he danced against you. His gaze was piercing, cutting through you as you tried to fight down the nausea you felt, the rising bile. The music faded, the only clear noise being the thumping of your heartbeat. You felt sweaty, almost nervous, steadying yourself against Rumlow when you nearly missed a step. You had to get out. Get out.

“I—air.” You stammered, realising how drunk you were as you tried to get your words out. It was surprising.

“Come, let’s get you home.” Rumlow spoke, looking concerned as he guided you towards a set of doors which seemingly led outside; however, it was clear it wasn’t the entrance.

“The cars a-are that way.” You found yourself trying to shout but it came out quiet, unclear.

“Mhm, but I want to show you something first.” He answered, practically dragging you outside.

“I think I’m gonna puke.” You mumbled when you reached a clearing outside.

“You’re fine.” Rumlow assured, pushing you gently back against a wall.

“Wait—” you began, feeling woozy as your vision blurred slightly. Rumlow was standing in front of you now, leaning closer before you felt his lips against your own.

“I’m going to be sick.” You warned, pushing him back.

“You’re not.” He stated, voice void of emotion as he kissed you again, his body like a statue when you tried to push him back. You felt his hand wrap around your throat as he continued kissing you, your pleas for him to stop lost. His free hand fell before you felt him inching up your dress.

“Stop it.” You tried to speak firmly as he broke the kiss, your body feeling almost foreign as you willed it to move.

“Gosh, just stop moving.” He almost shouted, pinning you against the wall as you panicked, begging your body to do something, anything.

“Brock.” You whimpered as he undone his belt. “Help!” You yelled when you realised what he was going to do.

“Shut up bitch.” He scorned, covering your mouth with his hand. You tried to bite it, to fight him off of you but your body was falling deeper and deeper into the abyss as he finally undone his belt. You managed to shout again as he lifted your dress before he covered your mouth again.

“Didn’t I tell you to—” he began before you heard another voice.

“Hey!”

“Shit.” Rumlow gasped, letting you go as he ran away, a man chasing him. Your world continued to spin before your legs gave way, your body falling down against the floor. Seconds passed like decades as you felt tears rolling down your cheeks. You felt paralysed, unable to move before you heard the voice again.

“Hey, hey you’re okay now” the man spoke, helping you to sit up as he sat down too, lightly tapping your cheek “stay with me okay, the bastard got away, is there anyone I could call?”

“L-loki.” You forced out.

“Loki?” The man repeated, looking at you properly, realising who you were. You were Starks daughter and Loki was your bodygaurd. Calling Loki, he tried to keep you awake.

“Hi, is this Loki?” He asked once the person answered.

“Who’s asking?” Loki answered.

“I’m outside a party with y/n, she’s—”

“Is she alright? What’s happened? What have you done?” Loki demanded.

“She’s safe, something’s happened, I think she’s been spiked.”

You could faintly hear the conversation as your mouth filled with saliva before you began heaving. You felt a hand against your back as you threw up, the action making you feel slightly better.

“I think you’ve been spiked.” The stranger spoke.

“Luckily my drug tolerance is so high.” You smiled lazily at the man before leaning your head against the wall.

“Loki is on his way.” He affirmed.

“How could I have been so stupid.” Loki cursed himself, hitting the car horn as he rushed through the traffic to get to you. How could he have just left you? He felt nauseous with regret. Pulling up at the mansion, he saw you standing outside, leaning against a man who he assumed was the one that called him. He practically sprinted towards you, wrapping his arms around you.

“I’m so sorry.” He spoke, kissing your forehead. You melted against him, unable to hear whatever conversation Loki was having with the man as you breathed him in, clutching desperately onto his arm. You barely registered him helping you to his car or him putting the seat belt around you.

“Don’t take me to a hospital, the news will be all over it.” You groaned before your vision turned black.

I just know that Loki is devastated 😭

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